


The Servants

by sterekandsteterdarksexytime (lavieboheme0919)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Slavery, BAMF Derek, BAMF Stiles, Bondage, Consent issues all around, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gang Rape, HaleCest, Hurt/Comfort, King Derek, King Deucalion, M/M, Master/Slave, Porn With Plot, Rape Aftermath, Sexual Slavery, Steter - Freeform, Threesome - M/M/M, Uncle/Nephew Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-25 14:02:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavieboheme0919/pseuds/sterekandsteterdarksexytime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Some might look at my life and think "He has it so hard…" but they're wrong. I'm very happy with my life. Sure, every last detail of it gets decided by His Majesty, King Derek… but in the end, I know he genuinely cares about me. I'm not the only slave who lives in the castle, but being King Derek's personal slave, I have the ear, the heart, and the bed of the most powerful man in the kingdom. In a lot of ways, I'm more powerful than the other nobles. Lady Erica, Princess Cora, and Sir Vernon might be members of His Majesty's pack, but I doubt any of them can say that they truly know the King the way I do. </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>In a Dystopian future, werewolves are the ruling class and Alphas are kings. Each Alpha gets a slave, selected from the townspeople. Stiles belongs to Derek. Their easy life becomes incredibly complicated when the news that a vicious Alpha is going to be passing by.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emrys90](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emrys90/gifts).



> So this came to me in a dream and I started to write it down. We'll see where it goes. Right now, I'm thinking it's a bit of PWP

Some might look at my life and think "He has it so hard…" but they're wrong. I'm very happy with my life. Sure, every last detail of it gets decided by His Majesty, King Derek… but in the end, I know he genuinely cares about me. I'm not the only slave who lives in the castle, but being King Derek's personal slave, I have the ear, the heart, and the bed of the most powerful man in the kingdom. In a lot of ways, I'm more powerful than the other nobles. Lady Erica, Princess Cora, and Sir Vernon might be members of His Majesty's pack, but I doubt any of them can say that they truly know the King the way I do.

As I walked through the halls of Castle Hale, other servants bustled to get out of my way. I was easily recognized by the golden collar and manacles I was forced to wear. My uniform, chosen by the King was a rather regal looking loin cloth. Two gold chains connected the two long pieces of bright blue cloth which draped down to my knees. The King loved showing me off. Other slaves could be used as any free man wanted, but I was off limits to everyone but the King and something told me that His Majesty loved for people to see what they were missing out on.

The beautiful metal doors that led to his chambers were all that separated me from him. There was a guard I did not recognize standing outside the door. As I approached it, he moved to block me. "Where do you think you're going, slave?" he asked.

"To visit your wife," I replied. "Where do you think? I'm trying to enter the King's chambers."

"You insolent little shit!" he growled, moving his gun to my forehead.

I grinned as I looked over, seeing the King rounding the corner. His eyes flashed red. I knew that was never a good sign. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Derek demanded.

"Your King asked you a question, slave!" the guard said, striking my cheek with his gun. I was knocked off balance and landed clumsily at the King's feet. Carefully, Derek helped me up.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes, Your Majesty," I replied.

He kissed my forehead before turning to the guard. Instantly he shifted, taking on his fearsome werewolf appearance. His long, dark claws dug into the guard's neck. "I was talking to you, actually. If you ever so much as look at him cross-eyed, I will have you publicly executed," he growled.

The guard swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

Derek released the guard, who promptly averted his eyes. "Come, Stiles," he ordered. As the large steel door closed behind us, he pulled himself out of his pants, pushing me to my knees. It was a familiar position for me.

As I serviced him, it dawned on me that I was going on 13 years in the castle as his slave. I was five when my name was selected by lottery to be the sacrifice used to honor a centuries-old ritual. After the Great Darkness several hundred years ago, the werewolves came out of hiding, tired of being hunted by humans. The Alphas of the various packs divided the world into territories. The first generation of Alphas all demanded one sacrifice from the people over whom they ruled, as a good faith guarantee that no humans would be harmed by the Alpha or their pack. Each City State had different methods of deciding the sacrifice. Some had pageants from which the Alpha would choose his or her slave. Beacon Hills used a lottery. All citizens aged five to 25 had their name in it.

I was five when King Derek ascended the throne following Queen Talia's and Princess Laura's death at the hands of the Hunter tribe. I was presented to him at his coronation. He was 16. I remember being so scared. I was sobbing and my father was so angry that the guards had to remove him from Hale Castle. I shook as King Derek approached me, kneeling in front of me. "What's your name?" he asked.

"St-Stiles…" I cried.

His thumb gently wiped the tears from my cheek. "Don't be afraid, Stiles. I'm not going to hurt you. You'll be safe with me."

And he kept his promise. Though I was a slave, many joked that I was a little prince and as I grew, I looked up to the King. He was like an older brother to me. Sure, I was trained to be disciplined and to follow his every order, but he made it a point to impress upon me the fact that I was  _his_  slave and was therefore elite.

He waited until I was 15 to reveal to me what my true purpose for him would be. By that time, I was in love with him. He was handsome and kind. He was a fair ruler. The crown suited him well.

The day of my 15th birthday, several maids bathed me in rich-smelling soaps and covered my body in oils. They made sure to scrub every inch of my body until it was nearly raw. I was presented with my golden collar and manacles that day, as well as my loin cloth. I felt naked and exposed wearing the loin cloth instead of the modest shirt and pants Derek had permitted me to wear for the last ten years. "What's going on?" I asked.

"Tonight you will move out of the slave quarters and into the King's chambers," Lana, the head of the castle's servants, told me.

"I don't understand…"

"The King will make use of your body. It might feel good for you, and it might not. Either way, it is the King's prerogative and you will permit him to do whatever it is he wants to do with unflinching obedience and without complaint, do you understand?"

I nodded, swallowing hard. I didn't understand, though. I had no idea what was about to happen to me. I certainly spent a lot of time around the King, but never had I gotten the birds and the bees speech.

She gave me a big hug. "You'll be fine, Stiles. I know you will."

It was Lana who walked me to the King's chambers. It was a part of the castle I knew well. I was in charge of waking him in the morning, helping him get dressed, and cleaning up after him, but that was about it. The loin cloth swished as I walked, the gold chain hanging loosely on my hips. "Lana, I'm scared," I whispered.

"Don't be scared," she said. "The King has a lot of affection for you. You'll be fine."

As the large steel door opened, Lana pushed me into the room, bowing in respect to the King who was dressed in a robe. The door shut behind me, leaving me alone with the King. "Good evening, Stiles," he said softly.

I gave a low, respectful bow. "Good evening, Your Majesty," I stammered. My heart was racing.

He approached me and rubbed my shoulders. "Relax. You're safe. Remember what I promised you when you came to me ten years ago."

"What's going to happen to me, sir?" I asked.

"This is what you were intended to do," he said. "I never wanted to scare you with it, though. I did my best to let you have a normal childhood."

"I thank you for that, sir," I said softly, keeping my eyes low.

He placed his hand gently on my chin, guiding my head up so that I was looking into his eyes. Slowly his face came toward me, his lips pressing against mine. His tongue pressed into my mouth. It felt strange. I opened my eyes, looking around, unsure of what to do. The kiss continued for another minute or so before he parted us. "You look beautiful, you know."

"Thank you, sir," I mumbled.

He unfastened the robe, allowing it to fall to the floor, I immediately shielded my eyes, trying to protect the King's modesty. He chuckled, pulling my hand down. "It's alright to look. In fact, you probably should." I cautiously opened my eyes, the King's naked body in front of me. I could feel myself growing hard as I took in the sight. He noticed my loin cloth and laughed. "I take it you like what you see."

Immediately I blushed. "I'm sorry, sir!"

"Don't apologize," he said. "It's flattering." Slowly, he guided me to my knees so that his member was in front of my face. He was erect. I looked up at him, afraid. "Open your mouth," he ordered. I did and he put the tip of it in my mouth. I made a squeal of shock, surprise, and fear. He moved himself along my tongue. I could taste him, as well as the slippery liquid that was leaking from the end. It was salty, but pleasant. "Have fun with it, just watch your teeth."

I closed my mouth around him, moving my head back and forth, allowing my tongue to swirl around the head of it. He moaned and my fear abated. "That feels great, Stiles!" he said, his hand guiding me further on to him. As he approached the back of my throat, the urge to gag began to overwhelm me. I tried to push back, getting him to a more comfortable position in my mouth, but he held me still, thrusting into the back of my throat. Tears streamed out of my eyes. "I'm really sorry, Stiles, but unfortunately there's only one way to make that go away," he said regretfully. He was right, though. After several weeks of him fucking my face a few times per day, he was able to slide into my throat with ease. However, the first time, my survival instinct overpowered Lana's words which were ringing in my ears. I felt like I couldn't breathe and I did my best to fight back, but it didn't help. It seemed like forever and then finally, a loud moan escaped his mouth and I felt several large loads of a gooey substance hit the back of my throat as he shoved himself all the way in. It slid down as he pulled out of my mouth, remnants of the goo lying on my tongue.

He grabbed his robe, wiping my face clean. "Are you alright?" he asked.

I nodded. "What was that?"

"Colloquially, it's called a blowjob," he said. "It gets easier with time. I'm sorry I sort of took over like that. In the future, I'll let you go at your own pace." He removed my loin cloth and directed me to his bed. I'd tidied this bed numerous times. I stood beside it, waiting for further instruction. As climbed into it, he motioned for me to do the same. I felt vulnerable and shy being naked in front of the King.

The sheets were silky and soft, much unlike the scratchy rough ones I'd used growing up in the castle's slave quarters. "Your bed is comfortable, sir," I told him.

"It's your bed now, too," he told me. "You'll be losing your virginity in it."

I gulped. "I'm sorry, sir… what?"

He moved close to me, caressing me. "I'm going to take you as my lover."

"I'm flattered, sir," I said. "Truly, I am. But surely you're deserving of a lover with higher status than a slave."

"I've known you for ten years, Stiles," he said. "You're my friend more than my slave."

"Will it hurt, sir?" I asked.

He frowned, nodding his head. "Unfortunately, it most likely will. But I'll do my best to make it good for you." He took some oil, lubing several fingers before pressing one into me. It felt strange. He slowly worked it in and out of me before adding the second, making a scissoring motion with them when he could move them in and out with ease. Each successive finger caused me to groan at the uncomfortable intrusion. His eyes stared into mine as he wiggled four fingers inside me, stretching me.

He continued to stare into my eyes as he moved between my legs, adding more oil to his hard member and placing it at my entrance. "Try not to tense up," he said. "It'll hurt more if you do." It was impossible not to. As he began to push in, I screamed out. The pain was blinding. Even after all of the preparation, he was too big. I felt like I was being ripped apart by him. He continued to press into me, his massive cock impaling my body. I thought for sure that I was going to die. I'd never felt something so painful before in my life. When his hairy balls were pressed against me, I knew he was all the way inside me. I was sweating, my slender body shaking from the pain. "I can't believe how tight you are," he moaned.

"It hurts, sir," I whimpered.

Slowly, he began moving. There was more pain, sharp at first, but with time, it faded into a steady, dull ache. The ache eventually melted into numbness and on occasion, he'd hit something that would send a wave of pleasure through me. "I'm about to make you mine," he exclaimed after what felt like an eternity of him thrusting into me. He pulled nearly entirely out and rammed himself all the way in, making me scream as more of that hot goo burst into me.

"What is that stuff that comes out of you?" I asked him.

"That's my seed," he told me. "You can do it too." Still buried within me, he reached down, stroking my limp cock to life. The feel of his warm hand around me was amazing. He continued staring into my eyes as he brought me to completion. My first orgasm was powerful. It caused my entire body to shudder and I clamped down hard on his cock, making him moan. My screams of ecstasy echoed off the walls as the torrents hit me in the chin. "Who knew you'd be so loud?" he chuckled.

"I'm sorry sir, I'll be silent next time," I said, averting my eyes.

"No. I liked it," he said, scooping my seed and feeding it to me. "Whatever doesn't go in your ass goes in your mouth. Do you understand?" I nodded as I swallowed it. Slowly he pulled out of me and almost instantly, I wanted him to enter me again. I squirmed in discomfort at the sensation of being empty. He noticed and laughed again. "Don't worry… I will fill you often."

That was a promise he kept. For the last two years, at least twice a day he fucked me and I serviced him several more times each day. He was incredibly virile, and with me always at his disposal, I often found myself with him buried in one orifice or another. I grew to love the way he felt inside of me, and often craved it. But sex was never mundane. Each time he entered my body, was a new adventure in pleasure and stimulation. There were times he would make me beg for it. There were times when he would make me go weeks without so much as touching myself and then he'd stroke me repeatedly until I exploded. There were even times when he would bind my hands with rope and whip me before fucking me into unconsciousness. I loved it all.

I was shaken out of my reverie as I finally got my prize. I swallowed it down happily. "You know I'm going to need to punish you for being insolent to the guard," he said, tucking himself back into his pants.

"Respectfully, Your Majesty," I replied. "He should know who I am."

He pulled me up to my feet and kissed me, leaving a smile on my face as our lips parted. "While that is true… you can't just go around disrespecting the guards. You're going to have to wear the cage for a month."

"A month?" I exclaimed.

"Do you want to make it two?"

I rolled my eyes, looking down at the ground. "No sir."

He fished the device out of a drawer and fastened it around my cock. He knew I hated this punishment worst of all. For one month, I'd not be able to masturbate or otherwise touch myself in any way. It was torturous, especially considering how much he and I had sex. "I might be willing to reduce your sentence for good behavior," he added after seeing the downtrodden look on my face. "Now come on, it's time for dinner."

"Didn't I just have mine?" I joked.

He flashed his smile at me as I followed him to the dining hall. Walking through the halls with nothing but a loincloth used to make me incredibly self-conscious. But now that my body was more defined, I often relished the extended glances I got from men and women alike. Even when my gait was a little awkward from particularly rough sex, I was still the envy of the castle because it was the King who caused that limp.

I stood behind him as he ate. Occasionally, he would hold morsels of food over his shoulder. I would promptly take it and pop it into my mouth, thanking him quietly.

Dinner was mostly silent, but at last, Princess Cora, the King's sister spoke. "I talked to Scott today. He wanted to warn us that Deucalion will be travelling nearby."

"That's just what we need…" Lady Erica scoffed, rolling her eyes.

Sir Vernon was in charge of the Elite Guard. He tensed at the news. "I'll make sure we have extra forces on hand."

"As much as I may despise him, we will be gracious if asked to host him. Do you all understand me?" Derek said.

All three of them bowed their heads. "Yes, Your Majesty," they replied in unison.

"Cora, I want you to invite Scott. I'd rather have him here, just in case. Deucalion is always more amicable with him around since he's a True Alpha," Derek ordered.

I hated Deucalion just as much as the Nobles did. He was the Alpha and King of a nearby City State. He was a tyrant, and could be so since his slave was not selected from the human population he guarded. In order to stop a war between Deucalion and the Hales, Derek's grandfather was forced to offer his son, Peter, to be Deucalion's slave. If anyone should be pitied, it was Peter.

I was of common birth. Peter was, by blood, a prince. He would never have been king, since after his grandfather, Derek's mother became the Hale Alpha and ascended the throne. She tried to negotiate her brother's release, but to no avail. Deucalion was cruel to Peter. Derek cherished and respected me. Deucalion saw Peter as nothing more than an object. On more than one occasion, he asked Derek to let me mount Peter, wanting to humiliate the prince. Derek, of course, refused to allow me to participate in his uncle's humiliation. Deucalion proceeded to sodomize Peter with a wine bottle, and then a loaded pistol. I'll never forget the sheer terror in his voice as he screamed, begging Deucalion to stop. Derek ordered me to leave the hall immediately. He later told me that he informed Deucalion that he would no longer tolerate that sort of behavior. That was a year ago and that was also the first time I'd ever seen Derek afraid. It almost restarted the war that Peter's sacrifice ended. Derek was petrified that his uncle's suffering would be in vain.

But with Deucalion so close, I was petrified that the specter of war might soon return to Beacon Hills.


	2. Chapter 2

"Isaac!" I squealed, running across the marble floor, slamming into my longtime friend, locking him in a tight embrace.

"Stiles, buddy! You look great!" he chuckled as we spun around one another, assessing what may have changed since we last saw each other more than a year ago.

"You seem stronger," I pointed out.

"King Scott has me working out quite a bit lately," he replied, playfully flexing his muscles. "But look at you!" He ran his fingers across my well-developed chest and biceps.

I blushed. "Cut it out!"

"Isaac! Stiles!" Derek called as he approached. "Stop flirting!"

As King Scott strode in, I gave a low bow. He smiled, pulling me into a hug. "Derek seems to be taking good care of you."

"His Majesty keeps me on a very high protein diet," I replied. We all laughed, knowing  _exactly_  what that meant.

Scott placed his arm around Isaac's hips. "I've considered turning him and taking him as my Mate," he announced. I was unclear what that meant. Isaac beamed with pride, but Derek looked troubled by the news.

"We're not supposed to turn the slaves. They're a living contract… we are honor bound to protect them as humans, just like we are honor bound to protect our human citizens," he chastised. "If you do that… you risk revolt, my friend. The Hunter tribes will not take it sitting down. They've been looking for a reason to reignite the Wolfsbane Wars!"

"Turning the human I love isn't going to bring us back into the Great Darkness," Scott replied dismissively.

"But it could," Derek warned. "You need to be careful. Have you talked to the Emissary about it?"

Scott shook his head. "I've not been able to locate the Emissaries. Any of them."

"What are Emissaries?" I asked.

"Nothing you need to know about," Derek replied. "King Scott and I have some business to attend to. Why don't you and Isaac go for a walk in the gardens?"

I knew that was an order, not a suggestion. I bowed my head, leading Isaac away. As soon as we were outside, I had to ask. "What did King Scott mean when he said he wanted to take you as his Mate?"

"He hasn't really explained it," Isaac replied, looking ahead as we walked. "I think it's a werewolf form of marriage, though… except it's permanent."

"Human marriage is  _supposed_  to be permanent," I reminded him.

"No… the way he describes it… it's like your soul is changed by it," he said. "Maybe you should ask King Derek about it."

"You saw the way he reacted to  _your_  Master wanting to do it to you. What do you think he'd say if I asked him?"

"Good point."

"Besides… of all the slaves in the world, you have it the best. People refer to you as his Queen," I pointed out. "You get dressed in the finest clothes… look at what I'm forced to wear… and King Deucalion doesn't even permit Peter to wear clothes… and he's of royal birth."

"King Deucalion is a monster," Isaac said through gritted teeth. "He is forming an alliance."

"How do you know?"

"Like you said… people refer to me as Scott's Queen," he told me. "They're saying he's allied himself with King Ennis, Queen Kali, and these two twins who fought their way up, usurping their King. They say that they can form one large werewolf. But you know how humans talk."

Sometimes I wondered about him. "Isaac…  _we_  are humans."

He laughed, as if it hadn't dawned on him. "My point exactly."

Though I grew up under Derek's watchful eye, our relationship had changed after I began serving his sexual needs. Isaac was now the closest thing I had to a brother. We didn't get to see each other often, but I loved it when he and King Scott visited. I sometimes found myself jealous of the relationship he shared with his Master. Isaac was a slave in name only. He had no collar to mark him as property. He and King Scott shared a mostly egalitarian relationship. Isaac even told me that sometimes when they had sex, Isaac was permitted to penetrate his Master… something that slaves simply weren't allowed to do.

"How is life with King Derek?" he asked.

"I don't know anything else," I said. "I enjoy it, though. He's been getting a bit more rough lately… Twice last month I had to spend an entire day in bed due to how hard he fucked me."

"Have you asked him to be gentler?"

That concept was entirely foreign to me. "No. I'm there to provide him pleasure. If it hurts me… then that's my problem, not his."

He simply shook his head in a manner that, for the first time, made me angry at him. I could tell he was judging my relationship with King Derek, comparing it to his relationship with his King and deeming mine inferior due to the lack of equality.

"Get off your pedestal, Isaac," I said. "We're slaves chosen to serve the Alphas of our kingdoms. If King Scott wanted to, he could order you to impale yourself on a spike in a public square and you would have to do it. I love King Derek and I know he loves me, too. And just because he doesn't ask my permission doesn't mean he doesn't have it… but even then… he doesn't need it. He's my King and I'm his slave."

"I didn't mean anything by it," he replied quietly.

A servant ran up to us, catching our attention. "Stiles, the King wishes for you to join him in his chambers before dinner."

I knew what duty I was about to fulfill. "If you'll excuse me," I said pointedly to Isaac. "I need to go pleasure my Master."

"Stiles! I didn't mean it like that…" he called after me as I followed the servant back to the lavish room I shared with the King.

As the door shut behind me, Derek turned my body so I was facing away from him, pressing me against the wall, moving the back part of my loin cloth out of his way. "Do you want me to fuck you?" he asked. I nodded, my heart racing at his touch. Even after two years of experiencing it every single day, he could still have this effect on me. I could feel him resting at my entrance, teasing me.

"Please, Your Majesty," I whimpered. "Use me…"

"I'm never just using you," he breathed into my ear. "It might not always seem like it, but I appreciate every time I'm inside you. It's not just fucking. It's making love."

"What brought this on?" I asked.

"I heard what happened between you and Isaac," he said.

"How?"

"I'm a werewolf," he chuckled. "You remained loyal to me, though. Loyalty goes a very long way with me, Stiles. Right now, Beacon Hills is in danger and I need loyalty more than ever."

"I'll always be loyal to you," I said. "I love you, sir."

He pushed into me. I gasped as he sheathed himself with my body. There was the familiar slap of skin against skin as he thrust into me, quickly assuming a fast pace, which I knew he preferred. I stood there, sandwiched between my Master and the wall as Derek took his pleasure, before releasing inside me. He remained buried for several minutes, just standing there. "King Deucalion will be here soon."

I restrained the urge to shudder. "Why is he coming here? I thought he was just passing by…"

Derek sighed. "He was. But a member of the Hunting Tribes attempted to kill him while he was within our borders. Now I have to carry out justice." He slid out of me, his remnants nearly instantly leaking from my body. I turned around to face him and he pulled me into a close hug. "I know you're afraid. I'll keep you safe, though."

I followed him out to the dining hall. Scott and Isaac were already seated and Isaac was avoiding eye contact. I stood behind Derek as I always did, and he passed me morsels of food like normal.

The door burst open, King Deucalion's eyes glowing red. I could feel the fury radiating off of him. Peter's naked body trailed slightly behind him. In his hands, Deucalion held a rope which was tied around the neck of a beautiful woman with light brown hair. Her clothes were leather, hugging her body so tightly, it was as if she was wearing an extra layer of skin. She looked regal and defiant as Deucalion yanked the rope. "Fuck you, monster!" she snarled.

Deucalion's claws swung around, making contact with her neck. He squeezed his hands. "It is  _you_  who are fucked, my dear," he vowed, his voice deadly and low.

"Deucalion, let her go," Derek ordered.

Deucalion's gaze turned, falling on my Master and me. "This little bitch shot me with an arrow… it very nearly hit my slave. How tragic that would have been…" There was a contemptuous irony in his voice as he spoke of Peter.

"And she will be brought to justice, but don't kill her in my dining hall. She'll be executed in public for her crimes," Derek assured him.

Deucalion retracted his claws, tossing her to the floor. Derek summoned a guard, ordering him to escort the woman to the dungeon then prepare the square for an execution. Deucalion took his seat at the table and Peter crouched behind him. "I want her to suffer. I want her entire kind to suffer. The Hunters shouldn't have been allowed to survive after causing the war. It is our job to correct the mistakes of the past."

"What you're suggesting is murder," Scott interjected. "Reopening a wound that nearly tore civilization apart when it was first inflicted."

Deucalion's lip curled. "I don't care."

"Well we do," Scott replied. "The consequences are much further reaching."

Derek stared off into silence. Deucalion watched him. "Is that true, Derek? You really believe as Scott does? That the monsters that killed your mother and sister deserve to go unpunished?"

My heart sunk. I hated King Deucalion for using Queen Talia and Princess Laura's memory against my Master.

"You should have hunted them into extinction the moment you assumed the throne, Derek. I told you. You didn't listen then, so I beg of you to listen now," he said. I could almost see his words clouding my beloved's judgment.

"I'll do it," Derek said softly. "The kingdom of Beacon Hills is at war until every last Hunter is dead."

I gasped. Deucalion seemed unsatisfied by this vow. He leaned forward. "Prove it. Swear on your servant."

I watched as Derek went rigid. "Who makes the claim?"

"I will," Deucalion said.

Derek shook his head. "I won't let you touch him."

"Then Peter will make the claim on my behalf. Either way, Stiles will be claimed for me, to assure you follow your promise," Deucalion growled. "The Hunters must die."

Derek was silent for several long minutes. Finally, he said, "Agreed."

Both my King and Deucalion stood, much to Isaac's and Scott's horrors. "Stiles, we're going to our chambers."

Peter followed as well. I was afraid. I had no idea what was about to happen. As the large doors closed behind us, Derek ordered me onto the bed. Deucalion pulled himself out of his pants and began thrusting wildly into Peter. It hurt me just watching it. Derek sat next to me, his hand caressing my shoulder. "I'll be right here to hold your hand," he told me. "I won't let it hurt."

"What's going to happen to me?" I asked him.

"King Deucalion is marking Peter, essentially allowing him to act on behalf of his Master. Peter is then going to mark you… creating a claim to you should I go back on my promise," Derek explained.

"What happens if you go back on your promise?"

"You become Deucalion's," he said. "But it won't happen. I won't let it happen."

Deucalion let out a roar that told us that he had finished marking Peter. The slave seemed entirely unphased by the brutality of what he'd just endured. He reached behind himself, slicking his fingers with the semen that was dripping out of him, and rubbing it up and down his impressive tool. Size, it seemed, was a Hale family attribute.

Derek took my hand in his as Peter moved between my legs. "I don't want him to. Please don't let him," I pleaded.

I could see Derek swallow hard. There were tears forming in his eyes as he bent down, placing a kiss on my forehead. "I'm so sorry, Stiles. I'm so sorry." Peter's large, blunt cock head was pressed at my opening. "Do not hurt him," Derek ordered Peter. Slowly, Peter pressed forward. While Derek had exceptional length, Peter had frightening girth. I squeezed Derek's hand as Peter forced his way inside. I could tell by the look on his face that he wasn't enjoying this, either. He mouthed the words "I'm sorry" as he continued pushing. My body stretched to its limits in the attempt to accommodate him. I knew he could feel what Derek had placed in me earlier and I saw him wince as he felt it.

If I hadn't been focused on how painful this was, I might have felt bad for how awkward this had to be for both Peter and my King. I grunted as more of him snaked into me, yelping when the pain got too much. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes. Derek wiped them away with his thumbs. "I told you not to hurt him!"

"I'm sorry, sir. He's just very tight. I'm doing my best," Peter said. He pulled out, applying more of Deucalion's semen to lube himself, re-entering me with greater ease, but it still hurt. I looked away as he managed to push himself entirely into my body. I felt violated. It was the first time that I truly felt like property. I had been raised to believe that as the personal slave of Derek Hale, Alpha and King of Beacon Hills, that my body was something special. Only Derek was able to touch and use it. But now, as Peter, on his Master's orders, thrust into me, I felt cheap. Like a common whore. Like one of the slaves the guards often occupied themselves with. I no longer felt like I belonged only to Derek. More tears escaped my eyes as Peter's thrusts became ever faster. Sweat was rolling down his body. Deucalion watched him with a lascivious grin on his face, like he was imagining the horrid things he could force us to do if I came to belong to him.

There was a look of consternation on Peter's face. It was like he was trying to hurry up because he knew how much I disliked this, but for whatever reason, he couldn't. "Come on, Peter. This isn't a lovemaking session. Just finish already!"

"I'm trying, Master," Peter said, picking up his speed. I began sobbing as the pain became too much. The thrusts became uneven and he began to grunt, a massive explosion of his seed bursting into me. As he pulled out of me, I curled into a ball, feeling as though my last shred of humanity had been taken from me. My body ached, particularly my backside, which was struggling to close after such abuse. I feared that I might be ruined for Derek.

"You've made your claim. I'll see you at the execution tomorrow," Derek said. "Please leave us alone now. The guards will show you to a room you can stay in." Deucalion and Peter left the room, leaving Derek and me alone. "I'm so sorry, Stiles."

"It hurts," I managed. Everything hurt: my body, my mind, and my heart.

He placed his hand on mine. I watched as his veins ran black and the pain faded. "How is that?" He asked.

"Better," I sighed. Exhaustion was creeping over me. "I'm tired..."

"Then sleep. You've earned it," Derek replied. "And I promise I'll never make you do that again."

"I'm your servant," I said. "I'll do as you wish."

Leaning down, he kissed my forehead. "No," he insisted. "You will never again be touched by another man. I won't put you in harm's way again." He crawled beneath the sheets and placed his arm protectively around me. I could still feel Peter leaking from me, but Derek's comforting embrace was all I needed to be able to fall into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you liked this chapter. Let me know what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

I felt Derek sliding into me as I slowly rose to consciousness the next morning. It wasn't the first time I'd woken up to him making use of my body, but considering what had happened the night before, this didn't do anything to help him in my eyes. Still, it was my duty to provide him pleasure, so I moved my body so he could more comfortably access it.

I could feel that he moved in and out of me with much greater ease than he usually did, and I really had to squeeze myself to provide him a tighter fuck. "You're loose," he lamented.

"You let Peter rape me," I replied. "Of course I am."

Derek stopped, pulling out. "I'm sorry, Stiles."

"You should be, sir," I said, getting up. Peter's seed ran out of my rear, which still couldn't close all the way. Walking was awkward and it hurt. I was just glad that there was nothing I'd have to do today since the Hunter girl was to be executed.

Derek grabbed my arm, pulling me tight against him. "I want to make this better… I really do."

"Then please tell me why you had to whore me out," I demanded, pushing away. "All my life, I've been told that I'm  _yours_  and that nobody could touch me. Then King Deucalion comes in here, says a few words and suddenly, I'm forced to open my legs for someone else. I thought I meant more to you than that, sir. But I realize… I've been your whore all along. Maybe I should just come to accept it. Because now… I'm not just yours. Peter used King Deucalion's seed to lube himself as he fucked me, so there is semen from three different men inside me and I feel disgusting, sir. The thing is … I'll be a whore if you want me to be a whore. But if that's going to be the case, then treat me like one. Stop trying to make me love you. I'll gladly bend over or kneel down for any man you put in my way."

Derek looked heartbroken. "Stiles… please…"

"No!" I shouted. "I asked you not to let him touch me! But you sat by my side as he stretched me to my limits and now you can't even use me. You promised me you'd keep me safe and you didn't… and I don't trust you anymore. After I begged you to stop it, you let him fuck me! I don't think I can forgive you for that, sir. And you can punish me for this insolence… but I needed to say it."

It felt good to get all of that out. I stood there, ready to accept whatever punishment he was ready to deal out to me. "I'm not going to punish you," he assured me. "Because you're right. What I did… what I forced you to do… it's inexcusable. I broke my promise to you and to my kingdom by putting you through that. All I can do now is apologize and hope that one day you might be able to forgive me, even though I don't deserve it."

"If I ever do… you'll need to earn it, sir," I said. It felt odd speaking to my Master in such a way.

"I'll do my best, Stiles," he promised. "And from now on, you have final say on anything that happens to your body. Even if it's me."

I shook my head. "Sir, I'm your slave. It's my job and I've never had a problem with you using me for that. I like it. I love that I can bring you pleasure. But you're the only one I want to do that with."

He agreed to those terms and didn't require me to accompany him to breakfast, so I decided to try and scrub myself clean, but even after 45 minutes under the hot water, I still didn't feel as clean as I wanted. After putting my loin cloth back on, I slowly headed down the long hallway. I nearly screamed as strange hands pulled me into an empty room. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I demanded as I finally saw Peter. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!" I also didn't feel ready to face him after what had happened.

"I'm sorry… I just didn't know if I'd have a chance to talk to you," Peter said.

"I think we had enough communication last night," I growled, trying to leave.

"Stiles, please… I just wanted to make sure you're alright. It's disgusting what they made me do to you," he said softly.

I breathed a sigh of relief in knowing that he didn't want to fuck me again. "It hurts a lot… but what can we do? We're slaves. When our Masters order us to fuck… we fuck."

"I might feel better about it if you weren't human. When Deucalion is a little too rough with me, I know that I'll heal. But you don't have that luxury," he said. "You're a sweet kid and I'm sorry you are stuck in this role."

"What's it like being a werewolf and serving another werewolf?" I asked, morbid curiosity overcoming what I knew to be appropriate conversation.

"It's Hell," Peter replied softly. "Since he's an Alpha, he made me submit to him. He can control me… make me do things against my will. He's forced me to kill people. My wolf eyes aren't gold anymore. They're blue and I feel cold and empty inside. But I know I'll die as his slave because of what he's done…"

"What do you mean?" I was horrified by Peter's revelation.

"He and I are the only two werewolves in our kingdom. He killed the other noblemen… It made him stronger. His power over me became more absolute. When he gives a command, I  _have_  to follow it," he told me. "I've lost my free will."

I was so shocked and disgusted by what he revealed that I was unable to even form words. He was a prisoner within his own body. I reached forward and hugged him. He flinched at the sensation of my flesh against his, but then relaxed into it, squeezing his arms tightly around me. As we finally separated, I could see that he was crying. "What's wrong?"

"The last time I got hugged was right before Deucalion took me away. My sister Talia was the one," he said. "I had forgotten what it felt like." I hugged him again before wiping the tears from his cheeks. "Thank you," he whispered.

"You're welcome," I replied softly. A toll of bells signaled to the main village that the execution was soon. "I expect that our masters will want us to attend."

King Derek and King Deucalion were still in the dining hall when we got there. I took my place behind King Derek and Peter took his behind Deucalion. "Where have you been?" Deucalion snarled. "I should beat you for disappearing like that!"

"I'm sorry Master," Peter said timidly, prostrating himself beside Deucalion.

I tensed. Derek could sense it and put his hand on mine. "I'm sure he and Stiles were just roaming the castle."

"You might let your slave have free reign, Derek, but I do not. Peter knows better. What if I had wanted to use him?" Deucalion demanded. "I have a perpetually virgin hole in which I get to sink my cock. What other king can say that?"

I felt like I was about to throw up. I hadn't thought about that. Werewolves heal quickly. That meant that each time Deucalion fucked Peter, it was like the first time. I sunk to my knees, trying my best to hold down the urge. "Stiles! Are you alright?"

I knew right then that I had to find a way to free Peter. "It's just nausea," I assured him, casting a disgusted glare at Deucalion. He caught my glare and his eyes narrowed with contempt.

"I think we should head down to the square," Derek suggested, trying to diffuse the tension. He led the way, followed by Deucalion, then Peter, and finally me.

A huge crowd had gathered to watch the Hunter die. The fact that her death was such a spectacle sickened me. The girl was led onto the platform by Sir Vernon. He stood there, one hand restraining her arms, and the other poised at her neck, ready to rip it open sat Derek's signal. Speaking into a microphone, Derek addressed the crowd and a hush fell over them. "This woman has been accused of attempting to assassinate King Deucalion, the reigning monarch of a nearby City-state. Today, she will be tried, and if found guilty, executed. Werewolf Hunting has been illegal for centuries. Even an accusation of such activities can lead to instant execution. But I try to be fair and just to my people, and while I do not consider her to be one of my people, she is in my realm and therefore will get her chance to plead her case."

The crowd booed and hissed at this announcement. Many citizens screamed "Kill her now!" I had never seen the people of Beacon Hills so bloodthirsty before.

Derek waited for the crowd to calm back down before continuing. "What is your name?" he asked. Lady Erica held a microphone to the woman's mouth.

She stood there in defiant silence, glowering at my King. After several moments of silence, Sir Vernon twisted her arm, forcing her to cry out in pain. "When the king addresses you, then you need to answer!"

"My name is Kate Argent," she spat.

A tense quiet fell over the crowd. The Argent family was supposed to be extinct. According to the legends, the Argent Family was the first Hunter clan to ever exist. They were honorable, though, and stuck to a code. They only hunted werewolves who had killed innocents. But somewhere along the way, they lost their sense of honor. They began the Wolfsbane Wars which led to the Great Darkness and the current system in which werewolves were in charge. It is believed that an ancestor of either Derek or Deucalion killed the last of the Argents. The disagreement as to who, exactly, it was led to the war between the Hale family and Deucalion, and subsequently Peter's enslavement.

But now, here was a woman claiming to bear a name that shouldn't exist, accused of attempting to kill King Deucalion. While I secretly wished she would have succeeded, I was scared of what her claim might mean for the future.

"Do you deny the charges brought against you?" Derek asked.

"No," she replied. "I only wish my arrow hadn't missed."

A new roar of bloodthirsty anger rolled over the crowd. When it finally settled again, Derek spoke. "Then I have no choice but to find you guilty. You're sentenced to death. Do you have any final words?"

Her eyes became even angrier as she looked around. She seemed almost feral. " _Nous allons chasser jusqu'à ce que nous n'avons rien à chasser._ "

With one swift motion, Sir Vernon's claws ripped out her throat and she collapsed onto the platform with the crowd cheering her demise. I flinched and looked away as the blood spurted out. Peter's hand grabbed mine in an attempt to comfort me. I looked over at him, his eyes were filled with concern. Several guards picked up her body and moved it. Derek once again addressed the crowd. "I want it known that as of right now, we are at war with the Hunter Tribes. Anyone caught aiding the hunters in any way will be sentenced to death."

It seemed harsh, but everyone stood to lose quite a bit if the Wolfsbane Wars were reignited.

Deucalion grinned, looking to Derek. "I certainly love a good execution. It seems I'll be needing to spend some time with Peter before we convene for dinner. I'll see you tonight." He stood and walked away, grabbing Peter by the neck and forcing him to accompany. I was frustrated because I still wanted to talk to him.

Derek drew me into his arms. "Are you alright?"

"No," I replied.

"Are you still in pain from last night?"

"No… I mean, yes… but that's not it. I spoke to Peter this morning. He told me what Deucalion does to him and it isn't right. We need to free him!" I said. "Nobody should have to live like that!"

"I agree," he admitted. "But I can't just demand that Deucalion free my uncle. It's far more complicated than that."

"Then we should kill him!"

Immediately, Derek looked around, his eyes wide in fear, his hands cupped over my mouth. "Never mention that again. Do you understand me?" I was confused, but I nodded. "Go to my chambers. Wait for me there."

I followed his orders. As I passed the room Deucalion was using, I heard Peter screaming out in pain. I looked through the key hole and saw Peter bent over the bed, Deucalion pounding into him at speeds that made his hips a blur to my human vision. A new wave of disgusted nausea swept over me as I made my way to the King's chambers and relaxed on the bed.

I waited for about an hour before Derek joined me. "I know you know the story of how the war between my family and his started… but you only know the story we allowed to circulate," he said as he sat beside me. "It was Deucalion who killed the last Argent. Deucalion has been alive for centuries. He was born before the Wolfsbane Wars ever began. The war started because my family decided to try and rid the world of his brand of evil. It can't be done. He kills those who try. If he finds out that you said that, he'd have you killed, too."

"But I'm  _your_  slave," I countered. "He can't just have me killed."

"He'd kill me just to be able to kill you," Derek said as he positioned himself next to me.

I didn't want to talk about that anymore so I changed the subject. "What was did that Hunter girl say before she died?"

"My French is a little rusty, but I'm pretty sure she said ' _We will hunt until we have nothing left to hunt_ '. It was a threat to me and my kind," he explained. "And because Deucalion made me swear on you, I have to keep my promise. I have to destroy the Hunter Clans because I refuse to lose you, Stiles." He rubbed my chest tenderly as he said that. Seeing his caress as a signal that he wanted to fuck me, I spread my legs, getting into a good position for him to be able to have his pleasure. He shook his head. "Not tonight, Stiles. I just want you in my arms."

"Do you love me, sir?" I asked. I knew it was inappropriate, but I wanted to know.

He thought for a moment before he finally responded. "Yes, Stiles. I love you. I probably don't always show it like I should, so in that way I've failed you yet again. But I'm going to try and fix that." He kissed my cheek and pulled me close to his warm body. I smiled, almost completely forgetting that I'd ever been mad at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for reading. Sorry it took so long to post. I've been busy with my story "Fast Times at Beacon Hills Academy" and also school… which has a pesky habit of interrupting my fanfic writing! Let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

By the time I woke up, Derek had already left the bedroom. It was strange not waking up in his arms. Slowly, I pulled the covers off and began my day by showering and pulling on a new, clean loincloth. After several minutes of adjusting, I got the fine gold chain to sit perfectly on my hips.

A glance at the clock told me that King Derek would be still eating breakfast, which meant that if I hurried, he would give me some of his. Otherwise, I'd be forced to wait until lunch. Even the thought of waiting that long made my stomach grumble in protest.

My bare feet echoed in the halls of the castle as I made the familiar trek to the dining hall. Upon entering, I gave a respectful low bow and said, "Good morning, Your Majesty!"

"Good morning Stiles." Derek replied brightly. I took my place behind him. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes Sir." I replied.

"I'm glad!" He said. I completely ignored Deucalion, but Peter looked as though he'd been crying and immediately my gaze fell to the smug, self-satisfied look on Deucalion's face.

Derek passed several strips of bacon and a croissant over his shoulder for me to eat, followed by some fruit. Breakfast seemed to take forever. King Scott and Isaac had left the night before in the middle of the night and I was frustrated because I desperately wanted to talk to Isaac.

When the Kings were done eating, Derek told me that he and Deucalion would be in his study working on a plan of attack for the Hunters and that he would see me at dinner. Likewise, Deucalion dismissed Peter.

Both of us had to act as though we weren't as happy about this as we actually were, so as not to make Deucalion suspect anything. We exited the dining hall in silence and I could see Deucalion's semen dribbling down the inside of his legs. As soon as we were a safe distance away, I embraced him. "Are you alright?"

I felt him nod into my shoulder. "I am now."

Hearing him say that made my insides flutter slightly. "Follow me." I whispered, grabbing his hand. I led him through a maze of hallways and staircases until we were in a dark, dusty room no larger than a closet. There was a small bed pushed to one wall that we sat on.

"Where are we?" He asked.

"I don't think even King Derek knows this room exists." I told him. "I needed somewhere secluded so that I could tell you what I have planned."

"You're not going to put yourself in danger, are you little one?"

I smiled at his pet name. "I'm going to free you." I whispered excitedly. "The next time you come back to Castle Hale, you'll be a free werewolf!"

He didn't seem as excited as I thought he would. "It's impossible."

"No!" I insisted. "It's not! We just have to kill Deucalion!"

"Deucalion can't die!" He replied. "Not anymore!"

I shook my head. "Everyone has a weakness. I'll find his and the next time you come to this castle, you'll never have to leave!"

"You're a sweet kid." He said smiling. "But you're taking a lot of risk for me when you shouldn't."

"Nobody should be treated the way Deucalion treats you, slave or not." I replied.

He remained silent for a while. When he spoke again he had more tears in his eyes, "Nobody has ever been this kind to me Stiles. Thank you."

I hugged him tightly, enjoying the sensation of my skin against his. "Soon you'll be a free wolf." I whispered into his ear.

His lips crashed against mine. As I did whenever Derek kissed me, I let his tongue enter my mouth. He pushed me backwards on to the bed and straddled me, moving the front of my loin cloth out of the way. I was so dazed by how fast it all was happening that it wasn't until I felt him placing the head of my cock at his opening, that my senses returned enough to stop him. "Peter… what are you doing?"

"I have nothing else to pay you back with. So I'm paying by giving you my body." Peter replied, sounding shocked that I even needed to ask.

I shook my head. "No, I'm not doing this because I want something from you. I'm doing it because it's the right thing to do."

He began to sob. I wrapped my arms around him, moving him so that we were laying side-by-side. His naked body pressed tightly against me, trembling with his cries. I lost track of time. It wasn't until I felt him shudder that I realized that time had even passed. "Deucalion is summoning me." He said.

I whined, not wanting to move, but knowing that I had to. Slowly, we crawled out of bed and made our way to my Master's Study. I bowed as we entered and Derek nodded his acknowledgement.

"There you are!" Deucalion seethed. "How many times do I have to summon you? The whole point of having a slave is so that my life is easier, not harder you fucking imbecile!"

"I'm sorry Sir." He replied softly. "It won't happen again."

"It better not!" Deucalion snapped. "Your training has gotten rather lax since we've been here. I think I'll need to give you a refresher once we return home." Deucalion guided Peter out, still berating him. I felt anger build up inside me. I wanted to go after Deucalion and stuff wolfsbane down his throat for treating Peter like that.

My fist tightened in my anger and Derek approached me, rubbing my back soothingly. "You smell like Peter." He observed as he drew me in closer. "You two didn't…"

"No Sir." I replied. "We just were lying next to each other in bed. Nothing else, I promise."

"You're falling for him." He said plainly. There was no anger in his voice, though I blushed furiously.

"No…I love you, Sir," I replied. "I serve you…"

He chuckled. "It's alright Stiles. I don't mind. I just worry that you're going to get hurt. Deucalion will never let that happen, though. It's best to put those thoughts out of your mind."

"May I speak openly?" I asked.

"Of course!"

"What if he did, Sir? What if I was able to love him  _and_  serve you?" I still doubted that I loved him per se. But there was no doubting that I cared deeply about him. "Would you be okay with that?"

He nodded. "If you ever fell in love with someone else, I'd let you enjoy them, too. So long as your duty to me came first. But Peter is a bit more complicated, he's my uncle. He stretched you quite a bit when the claim was made."

I felt a little disheartened. "But Sir, I would always put your pleasure first." I promised. He smiled, leading me the short distance to his chambers. He hadn't shaved and his scruffy facial hair tickled slightly as he began kissing my neck. It had been a record amount of time since we'd last had sex and I knew he needed it. I sank to my knees and looked up at him, waiting for him to pull his cock out of his pants.

"Do you want to?" He asked. "Remember…from now on, you have the right to say no…"

"And I told you, Sir, that I don't ever want to say no, not to you. I just don't want other people forced on me." I reminded him.

He nodded, giving me what I desired. Greedily I gobbled it down my throat, savoring the taste and feel of his cock on my tongue. As I pushed my nose into the mass of pubic hair and my chin came in contact with his large, hairy balls.

He grabbed my ears and began moving me up and down on him, feeling the strange, but pleasurable sensation of his cock snaking into and out of the depths of my throat. After several minutes of him thrusting, he pulled me up off his dick and moved us closer to the bed fastening my manacles to the bed post so that my arms were immobilized over my head.

Slowly, he unhooked the gold chain that held the loin cloth together. Letting it fall to my feet as he spread my legs ever so slightly and pushed himself into me. I grunted as I felt him move. The sounds of skin slapping skin filled the room as did the smells of sex. My neglected cock hung between my legs, leaking as Derek kept his pace. He held his hands on my hips as he pounded away, making me incapable of coherent thought. "I missed this." He moaned into my ear.

He roared out his bliss as he cummed. I missed that sensation. He thrust several more times before pulling out. "Thank you, Sir." I panted as he released my manacles. I was weak from the intense fuck and fell to my knees. Since I was already there, I took it on myself to clean the remnants of our passion from his cock.

He pulled me back to my feet and kissed me. "No…thank  _you_  Stiles." He helped me wipe away the seed that was already leaking from me. Then he put my loin cloth back on before we returned to the study. Deucalion was already there looking smug, but Peter was nowhere to be found.

"Is there anything else you need me for, Your Majesty?" I asked Derek, trying my best to get out so I could go search for Peter and make sure he was alright.

"No, I'm good for now. I'll see you at dinner." He said, kissing me on my cheek.

I bowed respectfully before exiting his study and running off down the hallway. I checked the room Deucalion was using first. He wasn't in there, but there was a pool of semen on the floor where Deucalion had undoubtedly fucked Peter. I began checking other rooms until I got to a large room at the end of the hall. As I approached it, I could hear noises coming from inside.

Cautiously, I stuck my head in. I was horrified as I saw eight or nine guards circled around Peter who was on all fours. Two guards were spit-roasting him on their cocks. The guard who was fucking his ass finished loudly and moved, being quickly replaced by another guard.

"Get away from him!" I ordered, rushing in and pushing the guards who were in the midst of violating Peter off of him. One guard instinctively raised his sword to me, but I glared defiantly back at him as I held Peter close. "If you touch a hair on my head King Derek will kill you with his bare hands!" I warned threateningly. "What gives you the right to gang rape somebody? King Derek and Sir Vernon will hear about this."

"Maybe if you got gang raped more often you wouldn't be so fucking uppity!" One guard said. Almost instantly I recognized him as the guard who wouldn't let me into King Derek's chambers. "King Deucalion gave us special permission to use this one!"

"Well, I'm revoking that permission!" I told them. I knew that as a slave I shouldn't be talking to a free person, let alone a guard, in such a manner. But I was furious.

I looked around at them. "If any of you has a problem with that, I'll be sure to tell King Derek and Sir Vernon that you all tried to force yourselves on me. You'll all join the Hunter girl!"

The guards angrily suited back up and filed out of the room leaving me alone with Peter. There was cum dripping out of his backside and down his face. He looked broken and defeated. I wondered how long this had been going on before I intervened.

He clutched himself close to me and I held him tightly for a while as he just sobbed. I couldn't even imagine what he must have felt in that moment. I helped him clean up. "Why did Deucalion do this?" I asked.

"He said that I smelled like you. He told me that if I was going to whore around then he'd let me be a proper whore. He brought me to the room where the guards were meeting and ordered me to submit myself to them. He gave them blanket permission to use my body." He said.

"That's it. I'm not going to stand for this!" I growled before returning to the study, angrily barging in with Peter on my heels begging me not to.

"Stiles, I thought I dismissed you until dinner." Derek said, confused.

"Please don't do this Stiles…" Peter pleaded.

My vision was red and I tuned both of them out, my angry glare fixed on Deucalion. "What makes you think you can treat another person like that?" I demanded.

"Stiles! Watch your tone!" Derek scolded. "What is this about anyway?"

I pointed accusingly at Deucalion. "He ordered Peter to be gang raped by our guards because he smelled too much like me!"

"I can't tell him how he can and can't treat his slave." Derek said. "As repugnant as I think it is. Now apologize for your disrespect."

"No!" I said defiantly. "I won't apologize to a monster!"

Deucalion looked angry. He slowly approached me. "In my kingdom, slaves are not permitted to talk to royalty in such a manner."

"We're not in your fucking kingdom!" I bellowed. "You can't go around taking away people's free will! Because in  _this_  kingdom, we actually have a sense of morality and honor! But you would know nothing of that now would you? You had to kidnap an innocent child to settle a dispute because you weren't man enough to be the bigger person and you weren't wolf enough to lick your own wounds!"

"Stiles!" Both Derek and Peter yelled.

Before I knew it, Deucalion's grip was around my throat. He lifted me off the ground. I tried prying his hand off of me, but it was no use and I was having trouble breathing. I kicked wildly, trying to get him to let me down.

"I'll remind you that I have a claim on you and right now I'm hoping that I get to make good on it. Because the first thing I'll do is bite you and strip away any sense of self you might have. After every man in my kingdom has had his fill of you and not even your werewolf healing abilities can make you of any use to me sexually. I'll kill and eat you myself and make Peter watch."

"Let him go!" Derek growled, his claws digging into Deucalion's neck. "I can't tell you how to treat your slaves, but I can tell you how not to treat mine. Let him go now!"

He dropped me. I fell to the floor, coughing and gasping for breath. Derek released Deucalion's neck and came to my side. Peter watched helplessly. After making sure I was alright, Derek ordered Peter to help me to his chambers. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

Peter picked me up and carried me to Derek's chambers where he sat me gingerly on the bed. "You could have gotten yourself killed." He scolded the moment we were out of the study.

My voice was hoarse from Deucalion's crushing grip. I knew without a doubt that I was going to have dark bruises on my neck. "I couldn't let what he did to you go…"

The door burst open and Derek came to my side. "You've started a war Stiles. I hope you're happy. Deucalion is leaving right now."

Peter frowned. "I hope I get to see you again Stiles…" He said. "Thank you for your hospitality King Derek."

"Where are you going?" Derek asked.

"You said King Deucalion is leaving."

"He injured my slave. I'm keeping his as collateral until I know Stiles is alright. It's an ancient rite, but if he wants to have his slaves gang raped he doesn't deserve to keep them," Derek said.

A look of relief washed over Peter's face. Derek returned to me. "I'm proud of you, Stiles. You stood up against injustice. You were brave, incredibly stupid… but brave."

"What do we do now?" I asked. My voice still scratchy.

"We go with your plan." Derek replied. "We're going to kill Deucalion."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for reading! I also want to extend a thank you to the person who has agreed to begin beta reading this story, emrys90. I'll be modifying the earlier chapters with the beta-read versions. Let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Steter (Stiles/Peter) and some slight threesome action. Check the end for additional notes.

We worked diligently to try and find a good way to kill Deucalion. Unfortunately, we kept running into the same conundrum: How do you kill that which can't be killed?

I also broached the fact that we now had an extra werewolf in our midst. So the pack could be made stronger.

"That's a good point." Derek replied. "Peter, you are a Hale by birth and therefore a member of the Royal family of Beacon Hills. I'm offering you a position in my court, as well as your freedom."

Peter looked at me, sadness falling over his face. "I don't know how to be free," he replied, "I've been a slave since I was young." He looked back to Derek, bowing respectfully. "I wish to remain a slave. I can serve you better in this capacity."

Derek nodded. "I understand. In that case, I want you to be Stiles' personal bodyguard. If so much as a hair is harmed on his head, I'll hold you responsible."

Again, Peter bowed, signaling respect and his comprehension. Derek reached into the small drawer where I kept my clean loin cloths and handed one to Peter. It actually fit him well, though I had to admit, I liked seeing him naked. "We'll get you a collar and manacles like Stiles'. I'll also commission some loin cloths for you. Until then, you can share Stiles'."

"Thank you Sir." Peter said, seeming overjoyed.

"You two are dismissed. I'll see you both at dinner." He said. I walked out of Master's chambers smiling, but confused.

"Why did you give up your chance at freedom?" I asked.

"And give up my chance to serve you?" He quipped back, "No."

"But you're a Hale. I should be serving you." I reminded him.

He shook his head. "I may have been born a Hale, but I stopped being one the moment Deucalion took ownership of me. It was my duty to serve him as it is now my duty to serve King Derek. Whatever he asks of me, I will do. Especially when it comes to your protection." He replied.

I hugged him and than Peter and I disappeared to our little secluded room, back onto the bed. My throat was still sore and my neck was tender from Deucalion's rough treatment. He placed his hand on me and it took mere moments and the pain was gone. "Thank you." I said, breathing a sigh of relief.

His lips grazed my cheek. "You're welcome…"

We stayed in bed for the rest of the day. He tried to initiate sex with me, but I didn't feel up to it. Instead, he just caressed my skin, massaging out tension in my muscles until it was time to meet our Master in the dining hall.

Derek directed us so that I was standing on his right side and Peter on his left. Derek passed food to me before he'd pass food to Peter. It was obvious that he was trying to show that when it came to a ranking system, I came higher on the totem pole. Peter didn't seem to mind though.

When dinner was done, we followed Derek back to his chambers. He fastened my manacles to the bedpost and entered me, ordering Peter to watch. I looked over seeing Peter harden as he watched. I liked the idea of a person seeing me pleasuring Derek. It was a pivotal function of my life in the castle, but it was always private. Nobody had seen it happen before.

The fact that Derek was trying to assert some sort of claim, wasn't lost on me. He saw Peter as a threat to what existed between us. I liked it, though. The fact that he feared losing me was exactly the proof I needed as to how much he cared about me. I enjoyed our dynamic. I enjoyed being his slave.

I loved having Derek inside me. I loved Derek. I loved serving him. But as I looked at Peter, I could see the lust and envy in his eyes. I had never felt so wanted or desired before in my life. Derek was thorough, causing me to come without even being touched. I felt weak as I blasted all over the bed. The tensing of my muscles led Derek to also finish. He slid out of me and collapsed onto the bed. "If you want to, you and Peter can." He said.

"In front of you Sir?" I asked cautiously.

"You did it before." He pointed out.

That was true. I looked back at Peter and giving him permission. He came up behind me. I squeezed my eyes shut, worried it would hurt as much as it had the last time. I was shocked, however, at how gentle he was. I felt stretched and full, but Derek's semen inside me lubricating it and being already somewhat stretched from Derek, Peter felt amazing.

He kissed my neck and shoulders as his cock was bringing me to the verge of a second orgasm. His hand reached around, gently stroking me. I moaned loudly. "Do you like how I feel inside you?" He asked.

I nodded as I came again, Derek looked impressed. I rarely ever actually came while having sex with Derek because his completion was most important to me. But Peter didn't stop until he was certain I was satisfied.

Then he buried his entire length in me and came, collapsing against me. When he finally pulled out, I was able to say for the first time in my life that I was sexually sated. I crawled up on the bed. Peter started to make a comfortable area on the floor. "What are you doing?" Derek asked.

"I was going to sleep on the floor." Peter said.

"No, you'll sleep up here with us. But first, you need to clean your mess." He replied, snapping his fingers and then pointing at my rear.

Peter climbed up behind me, moving the back part of my loin cloth out of the way and buried his face between my ass cheeks. His tongue lapping up the semen dribbling out of me. The sensations of his tongue in that area were amazing and Derek could see I was getting excited again so he moved.

Giving me good access to his dick, which I eagerly slurped down. I suddenly wanted Peter back inside me. I wanted them to both enjoy me at the same time, but it was merely Peter's tongue that snaked its way up into me. He was doing his best to clean out what he and our Master had put into me.

When Peter was done, he scooted up next to me. Derek had fed me another load of semen. As I usually did, I fell asleep with Derek's arms wrapped around me, my head tucked into his chest. Peter scooted close, sandwiching me between them. I felt a sense of rightness that I'd never felt before. I knew things were going to change for me.

* * *

When it came to researching how to kill Deucalion, we were lost. Short of force-feeding him massive amounts of wolfsbane, we knew of nothing. "We need to consult the Emissaries." Derek said.

"But what's an Emissary?" I asked.

Peter answered. "The ancient Druids were Masters of forms of Natural Magic. They're the ones who taught the Werewolves how to shift, after the god Zeus cursed a man named Laocoön to be a wolf for offending him. They became a tie between Werewolves and Humanity during a time when Werewolves lived in fear, before they took over."

"Unfortunately they're missing." Derek added.

"No they're not, Your Majesty." Peter corrected. "Deucalion killed all but a few of them. Those who survive are being held prisoner in the dungeons of Castle dè Isle."

Derek looked horrified. "He should be executed for that!" He growled.

"He should be executed for many, many reasons Sir." Peter said. "But a violation of the Emissary/Alpha link is a crime against nature. Unfortunately, there's nobody left to dole out the punishment."

"There has to be at least a few left out there." Derek insisted.

Peter began to cry. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"There aren't any. He forced  _me_  to hunt and kill them." Peter replied. "That way, if any survivors found out, I would be the guilty party put to death."

I hugged him tightly. "We won't let anything happen to you." I swore.

Peter hugged me back. "Oh little one… I wish I could have your optimism."

* * *

Around mid-afternoon, Derek stole me away to spend some time with just me. I fully expected he'd want me to pleasure him, but when I dropped to my knees to begin the task, he pulled me back up. "I wanted to talk to you about Peter," Derek said. "and the fact that I've never seen you look at me the way you looked last night when he fucked you." I was at a loss for how to respond. "I admit that I'm jealous."

"I'm sorry Your Majesty!" I replied. "I won't do it again."

He shook his head. "That isn't what I meant. I just… I wanted to know what I could do to give you that look."

I shrugged. "I don't know Sir," I replied, "I serve you. It's my job to bring you pleasure. I enjoy my job. I think I have the best job in the world. I know you care about me, but I've always assumed that eventually you'd get married and have children. After that I would be sold off. I mean, I've been well trained in the art of pleasure and I think I'd fetch a lot of money for the crown if sold to a brothel."

Derek immediately pulled me tightly against him. "I'd never sell you Stiles!" He assured me. "Especially not to a brothel. If I could have kids with you, I would. In a heartbeat. I think that the fact that you've clearly fallen in love with Peter is more indicative of my failings."

"You haven't failed Your Majesty." I insisted.

"No Stiles," he countered, "I have. If I had made you feel more loved, then perhaps you wouldn't have sought that from Peter."

"I wasn't seeking anything from him!" I told him. "It just happened. I don't even know why, to be honest."

"Well, I promised you that I would let you have a lover and while I don't like the fact that it's him, I won't stop you." He promised.

That saddened me. "I don't want you to think that if forced, I wouldn't choose you!"

"Love doesn't force a choice." Derek replied, "If I made you choose, I'd be selfish. But I'll admit that when I gave you that permission, I could see you were falling for him. I expected that he and Deucalion would be leaving and we wouldn't see them for a long time. Then life for us would return to normal."

I felt a slight amount of contempt boil up in me at what he said. "So you're honoring a promise because you feel you have to? Sir… I'm a slave. If you were to keep me locked in a dungeon my whole life, it's not my place to question it. I won't have Peter as my lover if it will make things easier."

Derek sighed. "That's not what I meant and you're more to me than a slave. You sell yourself short when you call yourself one."

"But Sir, the rest of the world sees me for what I am. I'm a slave." I replied, still rather insistent.

"If it weren't for the Old Laws, I would have you seated beside me as the Crowned Prince." He said.

"I don't want to be a prince! I want to be your slave! I want to pleasure you. I want you to tie me up and use me until I can't stand anymore.  _That_  is what I'm good at. Ruling a kingdom? I'll leave that for you." I told him.

"Is that what will make you happy then?"

I thought about it. He was giving me an opportunity I could not pass up. "I would like to experience you both at the same time." I admitted. "Last night when I was servicing you and he was behind me, I wanted nothing more than to have you both inside me."

Derek sighed, shaking his head. "He's my uncle, Stiles… that would be wrong."

"I'm not saying that you have sex with him, I'm saying that you both have sex with me." I corrected. He seemed to consider it, but the conversation was over.

That night, after dinner, the three of us lounged on the giant bed. We didn't have sex, but I didn't care. I was between them both, the way I wanted to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So I know that Steter isn't a favorite pairing for some, which is why I included the warning in the beginning... And for those of you who I lost by this part... it was good having you and I hope you check out my other stories. For those who like a little Steter and maybe even come Halecest... stick around. As always, I invite you to share your thoughts with me! Good or bad, I read every comment and I love getting feedback... it helps fuel my muse and get these chapters out faster.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a warning for rape and incest. If these are triggers, I'd recommend skipping this chapter.

 

**Peter**

Werewolves can naturally live for a very long time. Humans make jokes about dog years, but we make jokes about human years. It was the exceptionally long lifespan that made the first Alpha Kings and Queens choose human slaves over fellow werewolves. An Alpha could have easily made one of their betas submit to them. But it would have been a cruel and despicable fate. That's why Deucalion named me as his price.

It was a torture threefold. The fact that I was selected from one of the most respected and ancient werewolf lines, the first son born to my father. Since I was very young, it was meant to punish and torture my father. The fact that I was forced to submit to him as my Alpha and could heal quickly meant that he could force me to do whatever he wanted with no consequences for his actions. That was the second form of torture.

The fact that he was immortal and I aged slowly was the third form of torture. Any human slave would have survived his brand of evil for maybe twenty years. I could, conceivably, hold on for more than a century.

I don't remember much about my life in Castle Hale. In fact, the only memory I have is my big sister, Talia, holding onto me. She screamed when Deucalion grabbed my arm and pulled me away. I know I should remember more. I used to… but the memories all disappeared one day when Deucalion sunk his claws into the nape of my neck.

My life in Castle dè Isle became an experiment in how far the mind can bend before it breaks. How far the ego can be stretched before the will to live just disappears. How many times the mind and body can be raped before the person just gives up on life.

To be honest, I had completely given up. Every single time Deucalion beat me, I prayed to whatever gods might still be out there listening. That this kick and punch would be the last… that my body just wouldn't bounce back from this one.

Unfortunately I always did. That was my hell.

I learned to survive, though. Then I met Stiles. He was King Derek's slave. King Derek was so kind and gentle as Stiles grew. I even began to believe that he intended to free and marry the young slave boy. However when Stiles reached his fifteenth summer, Derek took him as his lover. They seemed to make each other happy in a way I longed to experience.

However, when two years later, Deucalion forced me to violate him the way I had been violated every single day since I'd been taken. He chosen his fate. To damage someone so good and pure… it was the sin of sins.

No matter how hard I try, I'll never be able to make up for what I was forced to do. He'll never understand how hard I fought against Deucalion's command. I strained my muscles. Deucalion was working my body like a puppeteer. I fought every second to slow down and hurt him the least amount possible.

The next day, I had to see if he was alright. I could still smell myself on him when he came down the hallway. To my surprise and his credit, he forgave me. It was that moment that I think I truly fell in love with him. But that's the thing about Hales that nobody ever talks about. It's a curse that's said to live in the Hale bloodline. Deucalion spoke of it. The object of a Hale's love is doomed to suffer at his hand.

My idea for how to find any possible remaining Emissaries is the reason Stiles hasn't gotten out of bed in a week. He hasn't eaten, hasn't slept or moved. Sometimes I see his chest stop moving. Derek says he doesn't blame me, but he should.

I blame me.

* * *

**Stiles**

**A little more than one week ago**

"Stiles slow down!" Peter called. I trudged proudly ahead. I'd never been outside the castle walls. I should have been scared. Instead, I was excited! The possibilities that awaited us seemed endless, though I had to stop my frazzled mind and focus on our task.

We were going to search near the territories of the Hunter Tribes to see if there were any Emissaries using that location as a source of protection. Since the only places Deucalion hadn't sent Peter was near the Tribal territories.

Before we left the castle, I tried on normal clothes. Both Peter and Derek said they'd be more comfortable. I didn't like them. Two years of just the loin cloth and normal clothes felt scratchy. In a move of solidarity, Peter decided he'd wear the loin cloth too.

I heard his footsteps. His hands pushed hard on the small of my back and I went tumbling forward. The sound of wooshing air explode over me and he cried out. "PETER!" I screamed, looking back to see him pull an arrow out of his shoulder.

"It's fine, little one," he assured me, "I'll heal." He looked around. "We come to seek the leader of the Hunter Tribes. We mean no harm!"

More arrows zoomed over me, two of them striking Peter. I hated seeing the pain on his face, but he wasn't healing. He was weakening. He fell to his knees. I stood up. "Please! I'm human. Don't hurt him!"

"Well if it isn't King Derek's little slave boy," An old man said as he stepped out of the dense forest.

"Take them." A man who looked to be the same age as Peter came up and hit me on the head with the blunt end of his sword. The world went dark afterwards.

I awoke to find myself naked, restrained to a device. I looked to my left to see Peter. "You're alive," He breathed, clearly happy to see that.

"After what we have planned, he'll find that there are worse things to endure than death." The old man said. "Chris… you've lost sight of our mission, so you will take part in this test, too. Strip and stand with the other recruits while I welcome our new guests. They'll be here for a while and they'll get to know you all quite well."

I watched as the man stared at the ground in front of him, removing his tight-fitting leather outfit. It looked exactly like the clothes worn by the Hunter girl that had been executed. The man went and stood next to three boys who seemed to be my age. All of them were incredibly well-built and rather well-endowed.

"You don't have to worry slave." The man said. "When I send you back to that monstrosity on the throne, he'll kill you both for me. He killed my daughter and poisoned the mind of my son. So I decided to make the final test for our new recruits to be sending one final declaration of war between us and their kind."

"Who are you?" I demanded.

"My name is Gerard Argent." He said. He pointed to the men standing side-by-side. "That's my son Chris and our newest trainees: Danny, Jackson, and Matt. You're going to help me teach them the lesson that an Argent does what needs to be done." He glared over at the men, ordering them to mount us.

"No!" I begged. "Please… we just wanted to talk. We wanted to help you destroy a common enemy. Deucalion is the reason your daughter was put to death… not King Derek… please!"

"Lies!" Gerard hissed. "That's the problem with you slaves. You're groomed to think of them as people, but they're not. They're vicious monsters."

Peter was now stuffed on both ends by the boys named Matt and Danny. There was regret and shame in the boys' eyes. Peter somehow managed to look defiant as his body was violated. I whimpered as I felt Chris hover at my opening.

"Please… you don't have to turn these men into rapists. Just let us go," I tried again.

"He's just a boy! So are they!" Chris said. "This is wrong!"

Gerard snarled something intelligible and threw a handful of some powder in Chris' face. Chris went rigid, then buried himself to the hilt within me. I screamed out in pain. The remaining boy, Jackson, came around to my face. "Please stop!" I pleaded. "It hurts… please make him stop…"

"Jackson, be a good boy and shut him up, will you?" Gerard said, a false sweetness coating his voice. Jackson forced his cock into my mouth. I fought in vain against the restraints, feeling more and more helpless as I did.

"How long do we have to do this?" one of the boys near Peter asked.

There was a coughing sound. I suspected that he'd thrown that same dust at them. As each man finished, he was replaced. When, by my count, I had serviced each man, I hoped to be done… to be released and allowed to return to Derek.

Instead, other members of the Hunter tribe were interspersed. The original four would occasionally protest. "He's just a kid… please… can we let him go!" One of them pleaded. I was able to see as he was hit with more powder and soon was mounting me again.

I felt sore, used. I felt like an object. I stopped trying to fight. My wrists and ankles were bloody and raw from fighting against the restraints. Semen oozed down my legs and there was so much in my stomach that I felt full and nauseous.

In the few moments between men when my mouth was free. I had a chance to beg for freedom, but I gave up. It was useless and my throat was raw and sore from having cock after cock shoved down it.

My ass was both sore and numb. Some men hurt, others I could barely feel. There was so much semen inside me, that I couldn't even understand how they were deriving pleasure from me. A man's voice called out, "He's too slick."

"Then rinse him out," someone else growled in reply.

"But how?"

"Think about it."

"Oh…" A strange sensation filled me. It took a few moments to realize what was happening. It was the most grotesque and dehumanizing thing I felt he could have done in that moment. He was urinating inside me as a means to rinse out the semen of the other men who had raped me so that he could rape me… possibly again. At this point, I didn't know who had used me and who hadn't, but I knew that there had been more than 300 loads shot into me. In that moment, I gave up. I hoped I would die because I knew I couldn't live knowing what happened.

When exhaustion sent me into blackness, I would wake up to men still using me.

Days passed. With each one, more of my will to live diminished.

* * *

**Peter**

Things like this happened to me once a week at minimum in Castle dè Isle. Deucalion liked selling my body out to random people and groups of people. The more depraved the act a person promised to do to me, the more he'd knock off the price… especially if the person would film or take photos of it to send it back to him.

But Stiles wasn't used to this. Stiles was loved. Anyone who looked at Derek and Stiles could see that despite being a slave, Stiles was loved and cherished. In his entire life, he'd had sex with two people: Derek and me. Now, there was man after man forcing himself into his tiny body. I could smell the semen… the blood…the urine. But dispite my strength, I couldn't fight back. Something was weakening me.

I lost track of time, though. I knew better than to try to count the number of men. It lead to self-loathing. I wanted nothing more than to try and give Stiles these tips for survival. I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to rip out the throats of every man here, but I wanted to spare the boys who were being victimized like Stiles and I were. Each time the powder wore off, they pleaded for our release, then Gerard would hit them with it again and force them on us. In my eyes, they were being raped, too.

"What the hell is going on here?" A man asked as he approached. He looked somehow familiar. The men using me stopped.

"John! Just in time… we just cleaned him out. Want a round with him? We're sending a message to Derek. We won't negotiate with his kind!" Someone answered.

The man pulled out a hand gun and two loud shots fired. Both men using Stiles dropped to the ground.

"Not anymore." The new man growled. He approached Stiles.

"Stay away from him!" I warned.

"I'm not going to hurt him." John promised, "He's my son…"

"Let us go," I begged, "please. Let me get him back to Castle Hale." Stiles didn't respond to the fact that a man claiming to be his father had just shown his presence. He was just lying there, his eyes staring off into oblivion. The man released the shackles that held us both down. I sprang to Stiles' side, picking up his body, which hung limply in my arms.

"Who are you?" John asked.

"My name is Peter." I replied, "I'm a servant of King Derek and I'm Stiles' lover."

I saw as tears welled up in his eyes. "I won't lose my little boy again."

"Then come with us to the castle. I'll tell His Majesty that you were the one who saved us," I told him.

"I refuse to face the monster who took him from me and let him continue to live. I also refuse to send my son back to him." He said.

"Trust me… the castle is the best place for him." I replied, "Stiles is very much loved by me and Derek and he's a beloved figure in Beacon Hills. I will not return without him." My voice and stance must have been threatening enough because he seemed to back up a little.

"At least let me escort you back to the castle."

I nodded my agreement. We set off with him protecting us. For a while we walked in silence, but it became suffocating. "He was so little when he was selected," he said.

"Derek took good care of him." I replied, "He's happy in the castle."

"Do you call this taking good care?"

"This was an accident. We came to try and broker peace… I thought you used to be a sheriff or something… why are you with the hunters?"

"I  _was_  a sheriff," he said softly, "but the day my son was taken from me I knew there was no such thing as justice. So I left the city."

"You didn't get to see him grow up?"

"And you did?"

"From a distance." I replied. "Until recently, I was enslaved to a different king. I was always jealous of him, though. Derek treated him well. He lived like a prince."

"But he wasn't a prince… he was Derek's slave." John clarified. It was clear that nothing I would say would convince him that Stiles had a good life in Castle Hale.

The trek back to the castle seemed to take forever. Stiles didn't move or talk the entire time. His eyes just stared blankly forward.

Our promenade through the streets of Beacon Hills as we approached the castle drew a crowd. People asked me, "Is he dead?" I shook my head.

A little girl approached, pulling on Stiles' arm. "Wake up!" She pleaded.

Stiles was never able to see how much the people of Beacon Hills loved him. He was a symbol of the prosperity they'd experienced since Derek became king. He didn't know that his birthday was celebrated by a feast in most homes. We entered the large, ornate doors in the front of the castle. Derek was there. As soon as he saw the body in my arms, he let out an anguished cry.

He took Stiles from my arms. "Set Mr. Stilinski up with a room then meet me in our chambers."

Princess Cora, Lady Erica and Sir Vernon came running down the hall. "Is Stiles alright?"

I shook my head before leading John to a guest room. "He remembered who I am," John whispered.

"Stiles is the most important thing in Derek's life. He knows who you are. He never forgot," I told him as I showed him to his room. "I'll let you know when Stiles improves."

I returned to Derek's chambers where I found Derek leaning over a large tub, gently washing Stiles. "You were supposed to protect him!" Derek growled.

"We were ambushed. I tried-"

"I DIDN'T ASK FOR YOUR EXCUSES!" Derek roared.

"I'm sorry Sir," I said softly.

"You should be."

I knew that there was nothing I could have done to prevent this, but Derek would never listen. When Stiles was clean, Derek drained the tub, dried him with a large, soft towel then placed him in bed. He curled up into a ball and stared out the window. Derek tucked him cozily into bed.

Derek stayed by his side day after day. The only person allowed to visit him was me. Cora, Erica and Vernon battered me with questions every single time. The answer was always the same though. He hadn't moved.

Royal duties were suspended. Derek refused to leave Stiles' side even for that. Princess Cora took care of the administrative tasks that were absolutely required for the kingdom to keep running. Citizens stood in vigil outside the castle, waiting for news of Stiles' recovery.

John joined me one night, looking over the sea of people with their candles. "Why are they gathered like that?" He asked.

"Stiles is a hero to them." I explained. "Because of the sacrifice made by him in his service to Derek, the people of Beacon Hills live well. His Majesty accepting Stiles as his slave constitutes a contract between Derek and his people. If he breaks it, he loses the legitimacy to rule."

John chuckled. "All my years I didn't realize it worked like that." A few moments of silence passed. "When can I see him?"

"When His Majesty says you can," I replied vaguely before leaving to return to the chambers.

Derek was still seated by Stiles' side. "I don't blame you, Peter. I'm sorry for what I said earlier."

"It's alright," I replied. I understood he was acting out of fear.

"Why won't he respond?"

"What they did to him… it injures the spirit. It takes longer to heal," I replied, "and even when it does, there will be huge, ugly scars where parts of him will be missing."

"We could turn him or remove the memory of it." He whispered.

I shook my head, "And rape his mind and body yet again? How would that make us any better than the Hunters?"

"WE HAVE TO DO SOMETHING!" He roared. Standing up and tossing his chair against the wall so hard it splintered with a thunderous crash, "I can't live without him."

"I know, Your Majesty," I started, but he cut me off.

"No, you don't!" He corrected. "I've loved him for thirteen years. I watched him grow. I nurtured him. I plan to have him by my side for my entire life." I loved Stiles, too, but he was right. I didn't have the same connection to him that Derek did. "I can't even think straight. I'm just so worried about him."

I realized that this was affecting him in more than just the obvious way. Stiles' role as Derek's servant allowed Derek to release certain tensions that normally build up in a man. He hadn't done that since before Stiles and I left. "Your Majesty." I began cautiously, "If you wish, I could take some of the tension from your mind… just until Stiles is better."

Derek understood immediately what I meant and shook his head adamantly. "No. You're my uncle."

"Your mother was my sister, yes… but was I there to hold you as a baby? Did I do all of the things an uncle usually does for his nephew? I'm a slave Sir. I hold no title but that." I said. "It'll make you feel better and like I said, it can just be until Stiles is better so you can think more clearly."

He roughly grabbed my neck, leading me to the lavatory. Using his strength, he pressed me against the wall and entered me without lube or preparation. It hurt. His motions were fast and rabid. It was all business and he was just trying to get off as quickly as possible.

When he finished, there was no cuddling or caressing like he did to Stiles, or Stiles did to me. He glared at me, his eyes glowing Alpha red. "This is just until Stiles is better. Afterwards, if you mention it to anyone, I  _will_  remove it from your memory. Do you understand?"

I nodded and he walked out, returning to Stiles' side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know... I'm evil for what I've done to them... but it, unfortunately, had to happen to pave the way for something else to happen. I also want to wish a happy belated birthday to my beta reader for this story! He's awesome and super patient with me while I'm writing. Let me know what you thought of the chapter! Until next time...


	7. Chapter 7

**Peter**

Sweat allowed his skin to slide more easily against mine. "Master…" I moaned. This time felt different than the others. While it felt better than any other time he used me, I was still very much aware that there was only one goal:  _his_  orgasm.

"Shh," Derek urged him, his thrusts becoming more frenzied. "If you don't talk, it's easier to imagine that you're Stiles."

I was unsure if he meant that comment to put me in my place, but I didn't take it as an insult. Derek and I had bonded over our grief, Stiles was still despondent. He was now running an intense fever, so much so that a team of servants were working around the clock to try and break the fever.

I was lying on my stomach. My manacles were fastened together over my head, taking my hands out of use and leaving me to Derek's whims. I liked when he did this. There was more vigor and passion behind each thrust. However, I noticed that as his thrusts became more frequent, his cock seemed to be expanding to almost twice its normal size. It started to hurt, then finally, he pushed hard, forcing me to scream out as his highly expanded base pushed into me. I felt like I was truly going to be ripped in half by him. His cum began blasting into me in volumes I'd never before experienced from one person. It just kept coming, coating my insides with his seed. I was stuck with him inside me for what must have been at least an hour. However, eventually it stopped.

He had knotted me. This would not go without its side-effects. Even though I knew he did it because he was thinking of Stiles, and I now knew what this meant for their relationship, the fact that it happened to me might complicate things. Since knotting was supposed to happen between a werewolf couple for the purposes of procreation, I knew it would begin changing me. It would force a bond between King Derek and me. It would also make me into the perfect Were-Bitch to carry an Alpha's offspring. Unless he stopped fucking me, he'd be unable to control it. Four more times on his knot would be all it would take to render me fertile.

He pulled out and collapsed beside me. With this newly forged bond, I wanted to kiss, to cuddle, and to simply talk. He seemed to sense my needs and only acquiesced to one. "I know you miss him," he said. "I miss him too. I'm so afraid that we're going to lose him."

"What will happen if we do?" I asked, unable to hide my fear.

He shook his head, sighing. "I don't know. We'll get through it together, I guess…"

"With or without him," I said, "I'll serve you loyally." His hand squeezed my arm. It was a comforting gesture. The King moved to get out of bed so I did, too. I helped him get dressed again, smoothing out wrinkles from him having haphazardly shed his clothes in preparation for our fuck. "You've been a great King, sir. Nobody will blame you for this."

"I know," he said. "I just don't know how I'm going to continue without him." My hands were resting on his chest. He reached down, straightening my loin cloth. It was the most tender moment we'd ever shared.

"The kingdom has faith in you, your Majesty." I said softly. We left the room, him first and I followed closely behind. It felt as though I was gliding. That was always a perk to being fucked. One's ass muscles never slide along one another so easily as after having been fucked. An elderly nurse came bustling down a corridor.

"Oh thank goodness!" She screeched upon seeing us. "He is awake, Your Majesty!"

Derek and I ran past her, eager to find Stiles, to look into his eyes once more. The unmistakable smell of cinders filled my nostrils as we got closer. There was the smell of burning fabric. Derek and I burst into his chambers to find a servant working hurriedly to stomp out the flames that had turned the blanket into ash. I was caught between the desires to ask what happened and how Stiles felt.

He was sitting up, leaning against the headboard. It looked as though even breathing was taking too much effort from him. Derek and I rushed to his side. The King's fingertips danced across Stiles' cheek as Derek leaned forward, pressing his lips to Stiles' forehead. "You're still burning up…"

"How do you feel?" I asked.

"Disgusting," he replied. "I can still remember some of what they did to me."

"It wasn't your fault," Derek said. "You know that, right?"

* * *

 

**Stiles**

It was hot. My skin was burning. It was like I was being roasted from the inside out. Was this Hell? Was I dead? Maybe I got my wish after all. Perhaps Hell was what I deserved for no longer being of use to Derek after having been desecrated by those men.

Then my world of darkness was filled with light. I looked around, seeing several servants, but not Derek. Of course he wouldn't want me anymore. I was used up. I clenched my fist, resting it on the blanket. A flame ignited. Another servant quickly pulled the blanket off, wanting to protect me from the flame. She didn't realize that I wasn't afraid of it.

Moments later, Derek walked in, Peter close behind him. Peter was walking with that awkward way that only meant one thing. It figured. He couldn't use me anymore so he went to Peter, who could heal from anything… who was perpetually virgin-tight.

As always, Derek was attempting to comfort me. It only served to remind me of the fact that I wasn't useful to him anymore and Peter had replaced me. I loved them both, so this was what was best, I figured.

Derek wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to him. I pressed myself close to him. From the corner of my eye, I could see Peter, awkwardly unsure of what to do in the moment.

After several long moments, Derek released me and I allowed Peter to also pull me into an embrace. "I'm going to find the men who hurt you both," Derek promised. "And I'm going to kill them."

I shook my head, pulling out of Peter's arms. "It wasn't their fault. They were forced to," I told them.

"They need to be taught the lesson that you can't simply steal, use, and break the people I love and get away with it," Derek growled back. His eyes flashed bright red. I looked up at Peter. He seemed to be positively glowing from that inclusion. I had to wonder what happened between them while I was unconscious.

"I love you, too," I said softly.

"There's someone who you might want to talk to," Derek replied softly. He turned his attention to Peter. "Would you mind fetching our guest?" Peter nodded, kissing my forehead before he left. I had no idea who this guest could possibly be. Again, I felt Derek's arms snaking their way around my body, pulling me close to him. "You'll never know how much I missed you…"

"How can you still want me after that?" I asked, fighting my way out of his grasp. "Do you know what they did to me? How many men used me? You were right to move on to Peter. You should just sell me."

"Don't talk like that!" Derek ordered.

"NO!" I yelled back. "I will! They raped me again and again. They pissed inside me to clean me out when there was too much cum in me. There were so many different men… My body was supposed to be something special… to be used only by you and those whom you permit to use it. And instead, it became a cheap plaything, used by anyone who wanted it."

"I said silence!" Derek growled. "I love you because of who you are… not how it feels to fuck you. You are  _mine_  and that means that you are more than just a slave. You are the reason I wake up in the morning and the reason I wish I didn't have to fall asleep at night. Your heartbeat is a sound more familiar to me than my own. I never want you to speak of yourself like that again!"

I didn't realize that I was even crying until I felt the salty wetness drip off my chin. "If I mean that much to you… then why did you move on to Peter?"

This time, it was Derek's turn to start crying. "We didn't know if you'd ever wake up. I wasn't the only one who was losing you… Peter offered to allow me to take a little strain off my mind. I grew to enjoy his company."

"So you're not leaving me for him?" I asked.

"Of course not!" he replied, pulling me back toward him. I was only able to bask in the comfort of this news for less than a moment before a vaguely familiar voice broke me away.

"Stiles!"

I closed my eyes, trying to figure out where I recognized the voice from. "Why is this man here?" I demanded.

"Don't you remember me?" the man asked me, hurt filled his eyes.

"Your voice… I remember it… you were there when I was attacked…"

Derek stood up, his claws extending. "Were you part of it?" Derek growled.

The man looked furious at the question. "Are you asking me if I took part in the gang rape of my son?" He moved closer to me, but Derek stepped forward imperiously.

"Son?" I repeated.

"He wasn't a part of the attack," Peter clarified. "He's the one who saved us."

Derek relaxed, retracting his claws. The man rushed toward me, hugging me tightly. I looked awkwardly toward Derek and Peter, not returning the hug. Both of them seemed uncomfortable with another man touching me, even if he was, apparently, my father. "You've grown so much…" He began to cry.

I tried to comfort him by rubbing his back, still feeling incredibly awkward. I'd been in the castle since I was seven. Derek raised me, for the most part, so I didn't have many memories of this man, nor did I have a context around which to even begin building a relationship with him. My relationship with Derek was always destined to be sexual, which I understood to not be the norm when it came to true father/son relationships.

Everyone in the castle understood what I did. There were only a few who knew that Peter had become a part of the mix… but sex and sexuality were huge parts of my life. I felt confused. He finally pulled away, placing his hands on my shoulders as he stared into my eyes. "You were so small when your name was chosen. I never even got a chance to say goodbye to you."

I signed. "I'm sorry," I said softly. "But I don't remember you."

His voice cracked as he replied, "That's alright. I never forgot you. And now, we can start over."

Derek interjected. "You understand that this doesn't mean that I'm voiding the covenant that bids Stiles to me, right? You're welcome to move to Castle Hale to be close to him. You'll see that he's much more to me than a slave… but I'm afraid I can't release him."

"I don't want to be released!" I added, making sure that Derek would know that, in case any ideas began floating around in that beautiful regal head of his.

"So basically you're inviting me to live in the castle to see how you brainwashed my son into wanting to be your sex slave?"

"Stiles is his Mate," Peter said. "Not his slave."

"I'm sorry… his what?" both the man and I asked at the same time. Perhaps he really  _was_  my father.

"Peter… don't…" Derek warned.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty… they deserve to know," Peter said. "It's a werewolf thing. Your souls become connected. It's sort of hard to explain, but it's rare that it happens naturally between a human and a werewolf. It's something special, Stiles."

"Why didn't you say anything?" I asked Derek.

"I only just found out," Derek admitted.

There was so much to process. I was beginning to feel dizzy and short of breath. It was like the walls were closing in on me. "Stiles?" all three of them said cautiously. Everything went black.

When I woke up, Peter and Derek were staring cautiously at me. "What happen?" I asked groggily.

They shared a look before Derek replied. "You passed out… then your hand caught on fire."

I looked down, expecting to see a charred mass, but my hand looked normal. Only one type of being could heal that quickly. "Did you turn me?" I asked, fear coating my voice.

"No," they both said. "Your hand caught fire… but you didn't burn."

"That's impossible."

"Once upon a time, people thought werewolves were impossible, Stiles," Peter said.

"But werewolves don't catch fire…"

"Dragons do," Derek said softly.

"Dragons?" I asked skeptically. This sounded insane. Certifiably insane. "This conversation has become exhausting. I need to sleep…"

Both of them hugged me and kissed me before tucking me into bed. "We'll join you shortly," Derek told me.

* * *

 

**Peter**

"You shouldn't have told him about being my Mate," Derek growled when we were out of earshot of Stiles.

"You knotted me," I replied. "He deserves to know, Your Majesty. You knotted me while thinking of him. And you know what that's going to do to me."

"I can already feel the change," Derek admitted.

"Do you really think Stiles is a Dragon?" I asked, avoiding that comment.

"What else  _could_  he be?" Derek shrugged. "I wish I had an Emissary I could talk to about this. Maybe we could reverse it?"

I stifled a growl. I hated the idea of making choices on Stiles' behalf. But Derek was my Alpha, my King, and my Master. He was within his right to make these choices for us. "What would make you even come to this conclusion?"

"Mom said something once about how we're not the only supernatural creatures that exist… we're just the only ones who got caught," Derek replied. "She mentioned other things… like Dragons… there might be a book in the library…"

We were interrupted by Sir Vernon who came running. "Your Majesty, there are people here I think you might want to see."

Derek and I followed him. In the dining hall, Princess Cora and Lady Erica were standing between four men, claws ready to tear out throats. A fifth man I'd never seen stood a distance away.

"These men," Vernon said, pointing to those near Cora and Erica, "they say that they are the ones who attacked Peter and Stiles."

"They are," I said softly.

"Then we'll execute them publicly tomorrow." Derek commanded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay so I know that this is chapter might have seemed a little incoherent, but the next chapter will bring it all together. Thanks for being so patient! Finals are over next week, then I'll be updating each of my currently ongoing stories in the few weeks I have before the new semester begins. As always, I encourage feedback!


	8. Chapter 8

**Peter**

"Lock them in the dungeon," King Derek ordered. "No rations."

"Please wait!" I said, stepping forward. Derek, Vernon, and the stranger all looked at me. "These men were forced against their will to attack us. They were drugged."

"They defiled my property," Derek replied. "Stiles was catatonic for weeks. They'll die tomorrow."

His mind was made up. I stepped back, averting my eyes. "What would your mother say?" The stranger asked.

"Do you question the King?" Vernon demanded, shifting in his anger.

The man smiled, "And if I did?" Either the man was stupid or brave.

"How do you know my mother?" Derek asked.

The man smirked, "I knew her very well. She was one of the most respected monarchs in history and I was her advisor."

"You lie," Derek challenged. "I grew up in the castle. I would have seen you."

"Not unless I wanted you to," the man replied cryptically. He pointed an accusing finger at me. "With his master killing my kind, there was no way I'd be so stupid as to allow myself to be caught. The werewolves need their Emissaries. Without us, they become like Deucalion."

"You're an Emissary?" I blurted out, my eyes widening. He nodded. I shot a look at Derek.

"Then you can help Stiles!"

"What's a  _Stiles_?" The man asked.

"He's my slave… he was attacked by those brutes and now he's changed… it's hard to explain," Derek said.

"Well, I'm rather tired and malnourished…" the Emissary said.

"Help yourself to food and one of my Betas will show you to a room. You're my guest in this castle," Derek told him. "Peter, follow me."

I dutifully followed my Master, taking the familiar path to his chambers where Stiles slept. Before we actually entered the room, he pushed me against the wall, kissing my neck. "Y-your majesty?" I said softly.

He pulled away from me, looking shocked at his actions. "Oh no… you're right…" he whispered.

"What?"

"I shouldn't have knotted you," he admitted. "It's started… the change has started. I won't be able to stop, Peter… our relationship is never going to be the same… you know that, right?"

I nodded, averting my eyes. "Will we ever be able to…"

"Make love?"

My eyes returned to his. They were beginning to cloud with tears.

"Stiles is my Mate and I love him," Derek said. I began to feel my heart sink. "But I can't stop the change, and in fact I  _have_  to complete it. Not doing so will kill you. But after that, we can't have sex anymore. Once the first full moon passes after the change is complete, you'll be able to carry young… I can't risk fathering children with you."

I understood, but I felt a tear fall from my eye. Derek had come to treat me with kindness and love. It was all being ripped away. "Then can we make these last few times last? Not just quickies in strange rooms?"

His hand traveled up to my neck and he leaned his forehead against mine. "Of course," he promised.

Derek pulled away from me, his hand falling down to mine. "Let's go somewhere comfortable." He opened the door to his suite, pulling me behind him. He pushed me to the bed next to Stiles and climbed on top of me. My body instinctively submitted to him. I could feel the pull of his Alpha status as he pushed my legs apart. He peeled off his clothes, his cock was already hard. He slipped a finger into me. It was easy, much easier than it'd ever been. He pulled his fingers out and showed me. They looked slick. "It seems like you're more ready for this than I thought…"

He slowly pushed himself into me. My body welcomed him like it had never before welcomed any man. I could feel his length spreading me, filling me, and satisfying me.

* * *

**Stiles**

The moans issuing from Peter's lips stirred me out of my light sleep. I looked over to see the look of absolute bliss on his face as Derek thrust into him. "Any room for me?" I asked, my voice smaller than I anticipated.

They stopped, both of them looking at me in shock. "We thought you were asleep, Stiles… you need to rest," Derek said.

"I've been sleeping and resting for weeks. I could go the rest of my life without sleeping or resting. I'm horny. I want to fuck!" I complained.

They exchanged a look of shock and surprise. Derek pulled out of Peter. "I thought that you might not want to… after everything that happened to you."

"I have needs," I griped.

"Okay." Derek replied calmly, moving from Peter to me. Peter pulled my torso into his arms. It felt good to be held and to feel skin against skin. Derek's soft lips brushed mine. They made contact with my chin and neck. He moved further down, his tongue tracing rings around my nipples. I could feel his length rubbing against me. At last, I felt him pressing against my opening. I froze. For a moment there was a flash and it wasn't Derek above me or Peter below me. It was the hunters.

"I said I wanted to fuck," I said ominously. "I made no indication that I had any interest in  _being fucked_."

Derek stopped. "Oh… alright."

"You can fuck me if you want, Stiles," Peter whispered his offer into my ear. Derek reached between Peter's legs, slicking his hand with something I couldn't see. He caressed my cock, eliciting a moan.

I turned over, getting into position. He nodded, giving me permission to proceed. I pushed into him. I felt the slick, warm, tight, inviting confines of Peter's hole squeezing against me as I pushed up into him. I had never felt something so amazing before. I buried myself entirely within him. He winced and grunted. I pulled out, leaving just the head of my cock inside him before ramming myself back in. It was like electricity was dancing across my skin. I did it over and over, building a faster and faster pace.

"Stiles, slow down," Derek warned. "You can hurt him if you keep that up…"

I saw a flash. It was like I was detaching, floating above, watching this happen. Peter grimaced, and while I could tell he was in pain, he felt too good to stop. "Stiles… please slow down," he begged, shifting beneath me in an attempt to get comfortable. I could feel him clench, gripping me ever tighter. I'd seen Deucalion fuck him so hard their hips were blurred. The desire called me, egging me on.

"Stiles, I'm ordering you to slow down!" Derek said, this time more forcefully. I maintained my pace. I could feel my orgasm closing in on me. As I was bursting into him, Derek forcefully pulled me out, causing my cum to spray Peter and the sheets. Peter turned over, clearly in pain. My senses returned to me in my post-orgasmic state and I suddenly felt entirely overcome by sorrow. Derek rushed to Peter. "Are you alright?" Peter nodded and Derek placed a kiss on his forehead before turning to me. "Stiles, I love you. I love you more than anything in this world, but I promised you I would protect him… even if that means I'm protecting him from you."

"I'm sorry," whimpered, tears spilling from my eyes. "I'm so sorry…" I'd done to Peter what I promised to save him from. "I… I'm sorry." I couldn't stop repeating those words as I backed out of the room. Once I was in the hallway, my bare feet echoed as they struck the hard, stone floors.

My father was returning to his room after eating when saw me. "Stiles? What's wrong?"

I brushed the tears from my eyes. "I hurt Peter… I just need to be alone right now."

He gave me a tight hug. I melted into it. "I know I didn't raise you, but I'm still your father and I still love you. I want to be here for you. If ever you need me. Please… don't hesitate."

"Thank you," I replied, returning the tight embrace. "But I really need to be alone right now."

"Are you sure? It feels like you're running a fever."

"I'll be alright. I'll send for someone if I need them… but right now… please just let me be alone."

He leaned down and kissed my forehead. "Alright, son. Sweet dreams."

I returned to my pace, heading to my secret room. Peter would likely know to look for me there, and I knew Derek would be able to follow my scent if he truly wanted to, but I sincerely hoped he wouldn't.

The bed up there was nowhere near as comfortable as the King's, but I considered the discomfort to be an act of penance.

* * *

**Peter**

As Stiles ran out, I moved to follow him. Derek pushed me back to the bed. "I'm not letting you comfort him after that. If he wants to go off because he feels bad, then let him because he  _should_."

I nodded my head, acknowledging his order. "But he  _does_  need to understand that I forgive him."

"And he will. But right now, he's too upset with himself to listen to anything. Just leave him be," Derek advised. "And I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have let it go as far as it did."

"I'm your slave, sir… you don't need to apologize to me."

"You're more than my slave and yes, I do," he insisted. "I'll admit that I was jealous of the way you captured his heart when you first got here… but I vowed to protect and save you from abuse and rape… and under my care, you've still suffered abuse and rape. I failed you."

I wasn't sure how to respond, so I gave him my forgiveness. He simply smiled at me and kissed my cheek before crawling back into bed next to me. We slept curled tightly against one another.

The next morning, Stiles didn't show up for breakfast. In his absence, I took care of Derek's morning erection, once again receiving his knot.

The Emissary was at breakfast that morning. "I realized we didn't actually introduce ourselves last night," Derek said, starting the conversation. "You know who I am, and apart from the fact that you're an Emissary, I know nothing about you."

"My name is Alan Deaton," the man replied. "Now that we have that out of the way… what is wrong with this Stiles?"

"He's been running a fever and he can set things on fire," Derek replied. "This isn't typical behavior for him. My mom once mentioned a creature called a Dragon… but…"

Deaton cut him off. "Yes, your mom would know about those. Her grandfather hunted them into extinction… or so he thought."

"But last I checked, Stiles wasn't a giant scaly monster!" I interjected.

Deaton looked at me. "Dragons are not always born. The most powerful among them are made… forged in the fires of misery and vengeance. A person who has a certain spark might find him or herself unable to control that spark after certain events. Given what he's been through, that seems the most likely case."

"Can you fix him?" Derek asked.

"There's nothing for me to fix. He's a Dragon. He'll be one until the day he dies. There's a likely chance that his children will inherit the propensity to become one, too. But if you listen to nothing I tell you, please understand: the more he uses his new abilities, the more likely it is that he'll lose himself to his desire for vengeance."

"The ones he wanted vengeance on were those who attacked us… and Deucalion," I said.

"And you're sure there's nobody else he harbors resentment toward?"

"To our knowledge, no…"

Deaton seemed to consider this information as Derek and I exchanged uneasy glances. "Then in that case, we might be able to take down that affront to nature who calls himself a King and quell any dark desires that might linger in your beloved Stiles."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I know this is sort of rushed, but I had a hard time finding inspiration for this story. I'll be working on my Story Addiction next, so check that out soon!


	9. Chapter 9

"You have to eat," Peter called through the door.

"No I don't," I replied. "I don't deserve to."

"I forgive you, Stiles," Peter said, exasperation in his voice.

"I didn't ask you to," I countered.

"You didn't need to. I love you. Now open this door or I'll break it down!" His forgiveness enraged me but his threat of violence endeared him to me.

I got up, standing on the other side. "You can't love me so much that you'd forgive me for that. What I did… it's unforgiveable."

"Stiles, I love you so much that there is very little you could do that I would see as unforgiveable. You lost control over yourself. Given what happened to you, I understand. For years now, your life has revolved around sex. There were rules. You knew the expectations. Then all of that was ripped away. If anyone understands why you did what you did, it's me. I can forgive you for it. What I can't forgive you for is locking yourself in this tower and starving yourself to death," Peter said. "Especially not now that you have the power to kill Deucalion."

"What about the King?" I asked. "He's furious with me, isn't he?"

Peter didn't answer immediately. "It's treason to speak on behalf of the King without his permission."

"So you're saying that he is…"

"So I'm saying that if you want to know, then you need to ask him yourself!" he corrected. "Now let me in."

After a few minutes of deliberation as to whether or not I could bring myself to look at him after what I did. I knew that the big bad wolf  _would_  break down the door. I unlocked it and quickly retreated to the uncomfortable cot. Peter slowly came in, carrying with him a plate of chicken and vegetables and a large mug full of water.

I kept my eyes purposefully avoiding him, but he simply sat there, ensuring I ate all of the food on the plate.

When I was comfortably full, I managed to force a "thank you" out of my mouth and set the plate and mug on the floor beside the bed before crawling beneath the blankets and turning away from him.

Peter crawled into the bed next to me. "I remember a time when someone forgave me for doing something I thought was unforgiveable…" He put his arm around me, bringing me closer to him.

"That was different," I argued. "You were ordered by Deucalion. What I did was out of a loss of control."

"I'm a werewolf. I healed. Yeah, it hurt while it was happening, but I'm fine now and I forgive you, Stiles. I miss you," he said. "But you're not the person I fell in love with anymore…"

"And never again will I be that person," I told him. "After what I went through, I'm different."

"I understand that," Peter said. "But that doesn't mean you can't open up to me and to Derek. We care about you. We can help you."

I sighed. "But the thing that doesn't make sense to me is that despite the fact that I'm afraid… I really want to have sex."

Peter squeezed me tightly. "I understand. There were times when my needs conflicted so intensely with the fears instilled in me by what Peter and others did to me. You've spent the last few years of your life with your sexuality being the most important part of your identity. Let us help you." I turned around, facing Peter. He leaned forward and kissed me. "I missed your eyes," he said when the kiss broke.

I reached down, grabbing him from beneath his loin cloth, stroking him. "Can we?" I asked.

He nodded. "If you want to. We'll need to return to the King's chambers for lubricant…"

"How were you able to create it for Derek?" I asked.

Peter sighed. "While I was filling in for you, he fucked me while thinking of you. His body began triggering changes in me so that I could have young. One of those changes is that I produce something to help him copulate with me. If he doesn't finish the process, I'll die… but once he does, I'll never be able to be with him again because it'll risk me bearing young by him."

"So I'll have you both to myself?" I asked.

"More or less," he replied. I liked the idea of Peter being the one thing that was mine alone, just as I would be Derek's alone.

We crawled out of the bed and returned to the King's chambers. Carefully, he laid me down on the bed, grabbing some lubricant. Derek returned right as he was coating himself.

"I see you two have kissed and made up," he said. "But I think it's presumptive that I would allow you to be with him before me."

My eyes lit up. Hungers burned in me I'd never experienced before. Whatever changes happened to my body, they also happened to my mind in regards to the men I loved. "What about both of you?"

Both of them looked at me oddly. "Your Majesty, of course you may go first," Peter said.

"May I?" Derek asked me.

"I want you both in me," I said again.

"Okay," Peter said, moving so that his cock was near my mouth. I could feel my level of annoyance moving from within me to being quite evident on my face.

"No… I want both of your cocks in my ass," I clarified, yet again.

"Stiles, that's too much too soon," Derek said. "What if I develop a knot while we're both in you… I could literally tear you apart."

"Then pull out before you knot… I just really need to feel you both," I begged.

"It isn't safe," Derek insisted. "Believe me, I want to pleasure you. But not at the risk of hurting you."

"Please… Can we just try it?" I pleaded, pouting out my bottom lip and looking up at them.

Derek grabbed Peter's arm and pulled him away, speaking to him in hushed whispers. I could see the concern etched into their faces and I could have sworn I saw Peter wince at one point, but the result was they both came into the bed. Derek fucked Peter for a few moments, slicking himself with the substance that Peter created to lubricate his encounters with Derek's knot. When he was ready, Peter added more lube from a bedside table and moved on his back next to me. He then reached over, using his strength and pulled me on top of him, aligning himself and then pulling me down onto his dick. I cried out as I felt it fill me. "Are you alright?"

I nodded. "Yeah… it's just been a while…"

"Then maybe we shouldn't be doing this," Derek said. His cautious words contrasted with the fact that he moved behind me, wrapping his arms tightly around my body and kissed my neck.

"I want this," I reaffirmed.

"Alright," Derek replied. His hand reached down and unfastened the gold chain that held my loincloth together and tossed it casually aside, revealing me fully to him. "Peter is going to listen to your heartbeat. If it gets out of control, we stop. End of discussion."

Who was I to argue with the King? I rode slowly up and down on Peter, trying to loosen myself up a bit. In terms of girth, Peter was the larger, but Derek was much longer. As he began to push in, I had to stop myself from crying out, fearing that Peter would ask Derek to stop. Instead, Peter wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to him. "It'll be easier like this," he told me.

He was right. My body finally permitted Derek to enter and I felt uncomfortably full, like I'd never felt before. It got worse as Derek pushed even more of himself in. I winced. "It hurts…"

"You have two huge cocks inside you… of course it hurts," Peter replied. "Do you want to stop?"

"No," I said. "I just need time to adjust."

Derek slowly worked himself the rest of the way in and stayed there. I was trembling between them, impaled by their massive dicks. I felt like I was being ripped in half. Derek made tiny movements that slowly loosened me up around them. After a while, those movements were much more pronounced, and eventually evolved into full-length thrusts that sent radiating waves of pleasure and pain throughout my body.

"I've never felt anything so tight before," Peter grunted as he began making tiny movements that beautifully complimented Derek's. My body felt like an instrument on which they were expertly crafting a symphony.

Unfortunately, it came to an end when Derek announced that he was close and withdrew from me, pushing himself into Peter. I continued to ride up and down on Peter's cock, stroking my own until I covered his chest and neck in my orgasm.

I collapsed forward onto Peter who grunted as Derek forced his knot into him. "Stiles you're hot," he said.

"Thank you," I replied.

"No, really," Derek said, trying to move as far as he could away from me without harming Peter who was stuck on his knot. "You're burning up."

I could feel the heat building up within me and I quickly climbed off of them. "What's happening to me?" I asked shakily.

"My knot will fade shortly… Go find the Emissary. We'll join you as soon as we can," Derek ordered.

I quickly put my loin cloth on and hurried out, limping slightly from how Derek and Peter stretched me. As if on cue, my father found me. "Stiles are you alright?"

"Yes," I replied cautiously. "No… I'm not sure. I need you to help me find the Druid Emissary."

"He's meeting with Princess Cora," my father said. "Follow me." He placed his hand on my back in what I assumed was an attempt to comfort me, but quickly retracted it. "Humans shouldn't run that hot… are you sure you're alright?"

"I don't know!" I repeated. "That's why I need to find the Emissary."

We arrived at the room where the Emissary was supposed to be meeting with the Princess. Two castle guards flanked its doors. "The princess isn't to be disturbed," one of them grumbled.

I narrowed my eyes. "King Derek has ordered that I speak to the Emissary. He won't like it if I don't follow his orders."

The guards exchanged a glance. They must have heard about what happened the last time a guard refused to allow me to do something I was supposed to do. They stepped aside, allowing me to enter.

"But what about the line of succession? Derek has no heirs," Cora was saying as we walked in. Immediately her attention turned to me. "Stiles? I was in a meeting. What's wrong?"

"King Derek sent me to find the Emissary. Something's gone wrong…"

"Is Derek alright?" she asked.

I nodded. "The King is fine," my father replied. "It's Stiles who needs help. He's running a temperature that should be fatal."

A man I'd never seen before approached me. He pressed his hand to my forehead. "My name is Alan Deaton. I'm an Emissary," he told me. "But I'm also a doctor. Are you feeling light-headed?"

"No," I replied.

"Any chills?"

"No."

"I'm going to ask you a few more basic questions. I'm testing for specific symptoms," he said staring directly into my eyes. "What is two plus two?"

"Four."

"At what age were you brought to the castle?"

"Five."

"Who is Peter's former master?"

"Deucalion."

Deaton stepped backwards. "Your fever isn't a symptom of illness. It's a symptom of the changes taking place within your body. I don't know what your master has told you, but you need to know. What you endured recently has turned you into a—"

"Dragon?"

Nodding, Deaton replied, "Yes. A creature of vengeance and fury. Your fire is building up. We need to get rid of some of it."

"But how?" I asked.

He guided me over to the fireplace and positioned my hands out in front of me. "When you said Deucalion's name, there was a flame in your eyes. He's your trigger. Focus on him and feel the flames come through you."

I closed my eyes bringing Deucalion to the forefront of my mind. I could feel the heat build within me. A charred taste filled my mouth. I opened my eyes to see smoke coming out my nose with each exhale.

"Channel it through your hands," Deaton instructed.

I imagined the flames emanating from my body and coming through my arms and then out my palms. The fireplace ignited instantly in a powerful jet of hot flames. It came out with such force that it almost knocked me backwards, requiring me to steady myself against the push. Deaton helped me maintain balance as I continued to force the flames from my body.

"Stiles!" Derek exclaimed as he finally joined us nearly ten minutes later. The flames were waning in strength before disappearing entirely. I could no longer keep myself upright and fell against Deaton. Derek rushed to my side. "What's wrong with him?"

"We just drained his flame. It should be a few days at least before it builds up again. I'll teach him to control it better," Deaton said. "And then he'll be able to take out Deucalion."

"But just that little display of his powers severely weakened him," Cora pointed out. "How is he supposed to go against the Demon Wolf? That's going to require much more power than that."

"Sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the greater good," Deaton replied. "It's a risk we have to take."

I began to fear for what was to come. I wanted to avenge Peter, but I didn't necessarily want to die doing it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So confession time... I had AWFUL writer's block when it came to this story and I decided to just try and write through it... so if the quality isn't exactly superb, I apologize... Hopefully the next chapter will be better. Let me know what you thought (kindly, please!)

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought!


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